


Choices We Must Make

by XxamoremortexX



Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor - All Media Types
Genre: Death, Human AU, Infant Death, Love Triangles, M/M, Mpreg, Sex, Stillbirth, both guys are good, marriage problems, might have to go slow with this one, so no asshole bf trope, some abuse of Tolkien, sorry about that
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-16
Updated: 2014-12-14
Packaged: 2018-02-09 02:35:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 42,310
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1965705
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/XxamoremortexX/pseuds/XxamoremortexX
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>“How do you pick up the threads of an old life? How do you go on, when in your heart you begin to understand… there is no going back? There are some things that time cannot mend. Some hurts that go too deep, that have taken hold.” </i>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>--Frodo Baggins, <i>"The Return of the King"</i></p>
<p> </p>
<p>Loki and Thor always knew that they were meant to be. They were a match made in Valhalla. After a tragedy, though, Loki and Thor drifted apart. Can they ever truly move on, or are they really destined to be? Loki will have to find the answer before it's too late and he loses the one he's really meant to be with. No one said the choice would be easy, though.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I know I should be working on _Glorious Purpose_ right now, but my muses have left me for the moment there. They will come back eventually, but until then, this was an idea I've been playing around with for a while, so I thought I'd give it a shot.
> 
> **Trigger Warning** \--there is a stillbirth scene in this. I know that it can be an extremely traumatic event for anyone, so I mean no disrespect to anybody. Just a fair warning that it is here, and I tried my best to as gentle with it as I could.

“Come on, Loki. You can do it, just a few more big pushes.”

Loki was panting heavily in the hospital bed, body pouring with sweat while his face contorted with pain. Even with the epidural in his system, Loki felt like his body was trying to tear itself apart. He wanted to snap his legs shut, to force the child to stay inside of him as if it would somehow stop this horrible process. The only thing keeping Loki from doing so were the stirrups holding his legs apart, locking him in place and forcing him to continue. 

Loki tried to give another large push, but the effort was too exhausting. He fell back against the stiff pillow behind his head, squeezed his eyes shut and began panting. The tears were streaming down his cheeks as he muttered over and over again “I can’t do it. I can’t do it.”

“Yes you can, baby,” his husband’s voice whispered softly in his ear.

Loki opened his eyes and there Thor was, blue eyes looking down on him with such love and devotion. Loki had seen that look in Thor’s eyes throughout their entire lives.

 

They were childhood sweethearts. A match made in Valhalla, Loki would tease. They had grown up together on the same street, they had played together and fought together as boys. From the moment they first met anyone could see that the two of them would grow to be inseparable. Whenever Thor went out to play with his friends, Loki would follow along, much to the chagrin of the older children, who did not appreciate being followed by the baby pulling the big red wagon. If the other boys tried to run from him, though, Thor would just put Loki in the wagon and pull him along so that he could keep up, because Thor refused to play if Loki couldn’t join.

On the days when Loki wanted to hide away from the world in the safety of his books, Thor would always find him. Instead of trying to bring him away from his chosen solitude, Thor would always lay his head in Loki’s lap and ask Loki to read to him, so that they could escape reality together. By the time Loki was ten and Thor was twelve, the two of them had lost themselves in Wonderland, helped the lion Aslan defeat the White Witch and bring justice to Narnia, killed the dragon Smaug to reclaim the Lonely Mountain, and later brought peace to Middle-Earth. The latter were always Thor’s favorites, as he liked to picture himself as the strong, handsome Ranger, Strider, while Loki was always his beautiful Arwen. Loki had thought him silly when Thor first assigned their roles, because Arwen was described as the most beautiful elf of all Middle-Earth. Thor told him that was exactly why Loki should play his Arwen.

When Loki was eleven and Thor thirteen—when Thor should have been outgrowing these fantasy games and his interests should have turned to baseball and touch-football with his friends—they played a game under the moonlight in Thor’s backyard. On the pitcher’s mound that his father had built, surrounded by the yellow daises of his mother’s garden, Thor created their own hill of Cerin Amroth. In the imagination of two boys, their suburban neighborhood had transformed into the wooded realm of Lothórien; the yellow flowers of elanor growing from the boughs of the trees. 

Beneath the moonlight, Thor—Aragorn, Estel, Elessar, the heir of Isildur—swore his love to Loki—his Arwen. Thor presented Loki with the heirloom of his House, the ring of Barahir. In reality it was a light copper ring with a plastic emerald in the center that Thor had found in a box of Cracker Jacks. Thor had painted the ring with a metallic silver paint so that he could properly mimic the ring’s description, but he didn’t know how to make it look like two serpents. Loki didn’t mind. He had played along with Thor and pledged his hand to him in marriage, renounced his elvish linage and chose to accept the Gift of Men: death.

On the hill of Cerin Amroth, Aragorn and Arwen pledged their love and hands in marriage. On the pitcher’s mound in Thor’s backyard, Thor and Loki shared their first kiss.

No one thought that they would make it. It was just childhood love, their parents had said. They were too young to understand what true love really was. They didn’t care, though. Thor and Loki stuck together. Through childhood spats, the awkwardness of puberty, the pressures of both their family and friends, and all that their teenage years could throw at them, Thor and Loki were determined to stand by each other and prove everyone wrong.

The first real test of their relationship came during Thor’s senior year and Loki’s sophomore. Thor was the star pitcher for their school’s team and was therefore being scouted by several major colleges. His father, Odin, pressured Thor to choose his old alma mater and major in business, so that Thor could one day claim his position as CEO of the Borson Corporation, just as he’d always pictured. The school, however, was five hours away. Thor would have to leave home, leave Loki. Not since he was seven years old had Thor spent more than a night away from Loki, and he didn’t know if he could do it. Loki knew he had to let him go, though. 

In the beginning he was afraid. He was afraid now that Thor was away from him, he would finally outgrow the fantasy world that he and Loki had always lived in and find someone else. Thor wouldn’t let that happen, though. He called Loki every night and came home to visit Loki any weekend that he was able to. Every time he came home, he would remind Loki of their promise on Cerin Amroth and touch the Ring of Barahir that Loki kept on a string around his neck.

The second test came when it was Loki’s time to choose schools. Like Thor, Loki had come from a prestigious family with a legacy at one of the best schools in the country: Brown University. With his outstanding grades and grasp of literature, Loki was easily accepted into the English program. Like Thor, the plan was for Loki to live up to his family’s legacy and one day inherit the company that his grandfather had started, Löfgren Publishing Inc. The only problem was that the school was on the opposite side of the country. 

At first Loki had pleaded with his father for a chance to go to a school closer to home—more specifically to Thor’s school—but Laufey wouldn’t hear of it. Their family had been fortunate enough to be able to afford the best things in life, so Loki wasn’t allowed to waste the advantages he had. Loki would receive the best education he had the opportunity to get. No question about it. Besides, his father had reasoned, if Thor and Loki couldn’t handle a few years apart, then perhaps their relationship wasn’t as strong as they thought. Loki knew that was just an excuse his father told him to justify wanting to separate them. Absence did not make the heart grow fonder. It only made the heart forget.

When he told Thor, they both had cried. Over the phone Loki had done his best to keep his throat from constricting as he told Thor that he would be leaving in the fall. Thor’s voice on the other end of the line tried to remain steady, but Loki could hear the strain in his voice as he asked if there was any way that Loki could change his family’s mind. If there was any way that, maybe, he could wait until Thor was done with school so that he could follow Loki. Thor had begged and pleaded, even offering to quit the school’s baseball team and double his course load so that he could graduate early. It was no use, though. When Loki had ended the call that night he broke down sobbing, not knowing exactly where the two of them stood. When Thor didn’t call him the next night or the one after, though, Loki understood perfectly.

It was for the best, everyone had told him. His parents told him that these years of his life were about finding himself and what he truly wanted in life. Loki was too young to commit himself to one person for the rest of his life. He was too young to understand what true love was…But Loki had known what true love was since he was five years old. He had known what it was when Thor used to pull him around in his big red wagon. He knew what it was during those afternoons when he would read his fantasy books to Thor while running his fingers through the older boy’s hair. He knew what love was and exactly what he wanted when he pledged to marry Thor in their own Lothórien underneath the boughs of elanor. 

When the fall came Loki was set to be shipped away to Providence to begin his new life without Thor. His car was filled with boxes of clothes, bedding, books, and the various trinkets he had collected in his youth. As he drove away from his street one last time, he looked in the rearview mirror one last time, his eyes lingering on Thor’s house as his fingers clutched the Ring of Barahir around his neck. He had cried all the way to the state line. 

Two days later as Loki was filling up his car at a gas station, he thought back again to their night underneath the moon on their hill of Cermin Amroth. Loki had promised Thor that he would forsake his elvish heritage and accept the Gift of Men… After he had filled up, Loki had jumped into his car and turned around, doubling back to find Thor’s university. 

When Loki later found Thor’s apartment, the door opened to reveal a broken man. His bright, beautiful Thor was shrouded in an aura of sadness; his eyes red and puffy with dark circles, beard shabby and in need of a shave, and knuckles bruised with scabs over old wounds. Loki didn’t give Thor time to ask what he was doing there or why. As soon as he saw his Thor again, Loki had thrown himself into his arms kissed him as if he would die if he didn’t. They held each other tight until their bodies ached and they were panting their breaths. 

With tears welling in his eyes, Loki told Thor, “I would rather share one lifetime with you, than face all the Ages of this world alone.” 

They knew then that nothing would ever part them again. They were Loki and Thor, and they were made for each other.

Loki’s decision to give up Brown and stay with Thor cost him a lot. His father, in his disappointment, severed all ties with his son, condemning him to his choice. It cost him a year of school as he worked to save the money to enroll for the following year and help pay for the new apartment that he and Thor would share. It cost him the security of his future, for he was no longer the heir to his family’s publishing company. The only thing that was certain in his life now was Thor.

Thor’s own family wasn’t too happy about the turn of events. Odin had never quite taken the shine to Loki that Thor did—he believed Löfgrens beneath his social circle. While Frigga, Thor’s mother, was always kinder and more accepting of the couple, she didn’t quite approve of the impulsive turn that their relationship had taken. Like Loki’s parents, she believed that the boys should consider their future and what they wanted out of life instead of committing themselves so young. 

But no matter what anyone said, they knew that all they wanted was each other.

 

Six years later Thor had graduated his university with honors and had begun an entry level position with the Borson Corporation. If Odin had his way, then Thor would not have joined the company at all, as he was still sore over his son’s decision to remain with Loki. Frigga wouldn’t hear of it, though, so they had come to a compromise. Instead of inheriting the kingdom, Thor would have to work his way from the bottom and prove himself worthy before Odin would let him take over. The hours were long and hard, but with enough perseverance Thor was slowly climbing his way up the corporate ladder. With his earnings, he was able to put a down payment on a starter home for him and Loki. More importantly, though, he was finally able to buy Loki the engagement ring he’d wanted to since he was thirteen: the real Ring of Barahir.

Loki was in his last semester of grad school when he discovered that he was pregnant with Thor’s child. Thor was over the moon with joy when Loki told him the news. Though Loki was scared at first—he was just finishing school and didn’t know where his life was going—he knew that as long as he was with Thor, nothing else in the world mattered. As long as the two of them were together, they could survive anything in the world. 

They were married two months after Loki graduated. It was a simple ceremony, with the both of them only having two witnesses. Thor’s mother and his best friend Fandral served as his witnesses. For Loki, it was his best friend Natasha and her boyfriend Clint. He had wanted his mother and father to come, but…well… It didn’t matter. Nothing in the world mattered when the two of them said their true oaths to each other. Thor slipped the emerald and silver ring—shaped as two entwined serpents, one wearing a crown of golden flowers while the other devoured—onto Loki’s finger and pronounced him his husband. Loki slipped the matching ring onto Thor’s finger and said that only death would part them. They had finally fulfilled the promise they had made under the moonlight in their own private Lothórien.

The remaining six months they spent preparing their small home for the arrival of their firstborn. Thor spent his days baby-proofing the house while Loki read every book and article he could find available to first time parents. They playfully argued over the colors for the nursery or what to name the baby—despite Thor’s pestering, Loki refused to find out the sex of the baby until the delivery. Sometimes, though, they would have some not so playful arguments as Loki’s hormones went wild because of the child inside of him and Thor’s patience began to wear thin. No matter what, though, their nights would always end the same way; Thor would rest his head on Loki’s lap, his ear pressed against Loki’s swelling stomach as his husband read to both him and their child. In these moments, Loki knew that every sacrifice he’d ever made were all worth it.

He should have known that, no matter how much he and Thor wanted to, they couldn’t live in their childhood fantasy forever.

 

Now, in the delivery room, under heavy fluorescent lights and surrounded by strangers while his husband held his hand, Loki wanted to die.

“I can’t do it, Thor,” Loki whimpered as another wave of pain shot through him. “Please don’t make me,” he cried, “please.”

“Loki, baby,” Thor shushed, “you can do this. You’re the strongest person I know, baby. I know you can do this. I’m right here. I’m right here with you and I’m not going anywhere.”

“I see the head, Mr. Odinson,” the doctor between his legs tells him. “Just a few more pushes and the fetus will be out.”

“Don’t make me,” Loki cried. 

Loki looked up into his husbands eyes, and though he saw nothing but love in his expression, he saw that Thor was tearing up as well. His husband sniffed, trying his best to keep the welling tears from falling. With his free hand he slowly reached out to wipe the few strands of hair off of Loki’s sweaty forehead. His thumb carefully wiped away the tear from the corner of Loki’s eye. Thor didn’t speak, but simply looked into the eyes of the one person in this world he couldn’t live without and squeezed his hand, letting him know that he was there for Loki, that he would always be there. Thor leaned forward and gently kissed Loki before pulling back and resting his forehead against his. Loki squeezed his hand tightly when he felt Thor’s fingers on his wedding ring.

“It’s ok, Loki,” Thor whispered. “It’s almost over.”

Loki let out another shaky sob and nodded. With his free hand he reached up to grab the ring dangling from the chain around his neck, the one he had worn every day since the night Thor gave it to him. Gathering all of the strength he could, Loki gave one large push.

“Very good, Mr. Odinson,” the doctor said. Her voice was meant to come off as calming and encouraging, but Loki had never hated a person more in his life. 

“Almost there, Loki,” she said. “Almost…Almost…” One final push that had Loki screaming. “Alright, the fetus is out.”

Loki fell back against the pillow and tried to catch his breath, but his throat was constricting from his crying. Thor’s lips were on him, kissing his cheeks and brow, whispering sweet and encouraging words to him. Loki squeezed Thor’s hand even tighter, wishing that doing so would take away all of the pain.

Across the room, the doctor and two nurses were cleaning the baby, all while whispering quiet words to each other. One of the nurses looked back to Loki over his shoulder and Loki had to close his eyes to avoid the gaze. Thor gently turned Loki’s head towards him so that he could kiss Loki’s lips and forehead. It was then that Loki finally felt Thor’s tears drop onto his skin. His brave Strider couldn’t stay strong forever. 

“Mr. Odinson,” the doctor called to them gently. They didn’t know which one she was addressing, but Loki couldn’t bear to look at her. Thor chose to address her instead.

“Mr. Odinson,” she said again, “would you like to…”

“Yes,” Thor nodded, knowing what the doctor was referring to.

The doctor nodded and cast her eyes to the ground before she turned back to collect the baby. Thor kissed Loki’s hand one last time before gently letting it go. When he looked over to the doctor, she was bringing over the small bundle wrapped in the grey blanket. Very carefully, the doctor handed the baby over to Thor. Thor made sure to support the neck, just like his mother had taught him and how Loki had been nagging at him to do, and pulled the baby close to his chest.

“I…it’s a girl,” Thor said softly, another tear rolling down his cheek. He looked down on his little girl, loving her with everything he had inside of him. Looking down on this little girl—who had Loki’s black hair and the shape of Thor’s lips—Thor knew that he would never love anything in this world as much as he loved her. Another tear fell as he leaned down to press a soft kiss to his daughter’s cheek.

“Loki… Do you want to hold her?”

Another sob shook Loki’s body and it broke Thor’s heart. The love of his life, his soulmate, was in so much pain, but there was nothing he could do to make it better. And just that fact was killing Thor inside.

“He doesn’t have to if he doesn’t want to, Mr. Odinson,” the doctor said. “It’s alright. Many couples can’t after—”

“No!” Loki shouted. “Don’t say it. Please…just don’t.”

“Loki?” Thor said. “It’s up to you…”

A full minute passed as Loki fought to control his breathing and try to calm himself. No matter what he tried to do, though, he couldn’t completely get himself under control. Loki’s throat was too constricted to speak, so instead he looked to his husband—his rock—and held his arms out. Thor nodded and passed their daughter over to Loki. 

As soon as Loki looked down at their daughter, a fresh wave of tears overcame him. Like Thor, though, he couldn’t help but marvel at just how beautiful his little girl was, nor could he fathom the amount of love he felt for her. This beautiful, tiny little girl had been the product of his and Thor’s undying love for each other. She was the little piece of each of them that Loki had carried inside of him for nine months, feeling her grow and kick and just live within him. Loki looked down on her and just couldn’t believe that he could ever feel this amount of love inside of him. 

Like Thor before him, Loki brought the baby closer so that he could pepper her skin with soft kisses. Her blue-grey skin felt so cold against his lips.

“Do you have a name?” The doctor asked.

“…Do you really need to do this now?” Thor asked, his voice strained.

“I’m sorry Mr. Odinson… We have to have a name for the certificate.”

“I really don’t think now is the time—”

“Hela,” Loki cut him off. He didn’t look up at Thor or anyone else in the room. He’s green eyes were transfixed on his daughter, marveling at his beautiful child. Because she was beautiful. Despite the sagging and discolored skin, she was the most beautiful thing that Loki had ever seen in his life.

“Her name is Hela,” Loki said.

“Hela Odinson,” the doctor said her name. When she turned to one of the nurses she told her quietly, “Time of death: 3:52 pm.”

Thor’s arm wrapped around Loki’s shoulder and he pulled his husband toward him. He kept his arm wrapped tight around Loki, kissing his forehead as his other hand came up to gently run his fingers through his daughter’s dark hair. The doctor and the nurses left the room, their job done for now. Eventually someone would have to come back to collect the fetus, but for now they knew that they needed to leave the family to mourn.

For a long time Thor and Loki did nothing but hold each other and stare down lovingly at their daughter. What words could they say to each other now? What difference would it make? At the end of this, they’ll still have to go home to their house and face the empty nursery. Loki and Thor will both have to see the car-seat still in the box, the stuffed animals placed carefully around the green painted room, and the mobile spinning slowly over the empty bassinet. 

This wasn’t supposed to happen to them. Aragorn and Arwen got their happy ending. They were married, Arwen gave birth to their son, they lived and loved each other till the end of their days and eventually Arwen followed Aragorn to the grave. That was how it was supposed to be. They were supposed to have their happy fantasy ending. They weren’t supposed to have this.

They couldn’t live in the fantasy forever. They were foolish to think that they could.

“…I-I didn’t think I could ever love anything as much as I love her, Thor,” Loki whispered. His thumb was moving along Hela’s cheek, ignorant to the way that the sagging skin of her cheek moved along with his thumb.

“I know, Loki,” Thor said. “I feel the same.”

“…What are we going to do now, Thor? W-what are we going to do?”

“I…I don’t know, baby,” Thor said with a choked sob. “But we’ll figure it out together….We’ll figure it out.”

“D-Do you p-promise?” Loki cried, a hiccup in his voice.

“I promise, Loki.” Thor pressed a kiss to his cheek. “I promise, we’ll figure it out… I love you so much, Loki.”

“…I-I love you too.”

Loki couldn’t fight it anymore. He pressed his baby close to his heart and fell apart in Thor’s arms. Thor held his husband tight as they fell into an inconsolable state, neither one expecting the other to be strong at the moment. It was alright for them to break down in this moment together, because no matter what they had each other. Throughout their lives, the one truth that both of them knew was that as long as they had each other, everything else would be alright. As long as they had each other, they could overcome anything. They were Loki and Thor, a match made in Valhalla.

***

_Five Years Later_

It was the clap of thunder that woke Loki in the middle of the night. A flash of light outside his bedroom window followed by the loud crash had Loki sitting up straight in his bed, his chest panting. A second clap of thunder followed quickly after and Loki jumped.

Loki has hated the thunder for as long as he could remember. When he was little, just the rumble of thunder in the distance would have him a shivering mess that needed the comfort of his parents’ bed. He and his mother blamed it on the fact that his older cousin Helblindi had him watch _Poltergeist_ when he was only five years old. His father thought that he would eventually grow out of it, but some things just tend to stick with you throughout your life. Loki’s fear of thunderstorms just seemed to follow him throughout his life.

Thor loved thunderstorms. When he was little, his mother would have to hold him back from running out into the rain so that he could dance in the storm and pretend that he was the one controlling the lightning. After the two boys met and Thor learned of Loki’s fear of the storms, Thor had held him tight to keep him from shivering and whispered in his ear that he was the master of lightning. He promised Loki that he had control of the storms and that he would never let the thunder or lightning hurt Loki.

It didn’t completely take away his fear, but Loki would always feel a little better knowing that his best friend would never let the storm hurt him. When they got older, Thor found another way to protect him from the storms; he held him close and tight, whispering in his ear that he could control the lightning and that as long as they were together, he would never let the storms hurt his love. Since then, Loki slept soundly through the storms as long as Thor’s arm was around him, keeping him safe and secure.

Another clap of thunder shook the house, making Loki jump again. His hands were beginning to tremble and Loki cursed himself for this damn childhood phobia. Why couldn’t he just grow out of it already? Why couldn’t he just grow up?

“Loki? Baby, what’s wrong?” The sleepy voice beside him murmured.

“I-it’s nothing,” Loki answered. “The storm just woke me, is all.”

Instantly a warm, strong arm reached out to wrap around his waist. Gently he pulled Loki closer and encouraged him to lay back down. Despite his anxiousness of the storm outside, Loki found himself smiling slightly as he was pulled back down to that warm body. His back was pressed against the broad, muscular chest as that arm held tighter, fingers stroking his flat stomach in order to sooth him. Soft lips pressed against the side of his neck, his lover’s long hair tickling his skin as he peppered his kisses along the column of his throat. Loki felt himself relaxing back into the warm touches until eventually his trembling stopped. Outside the thunder was slowly beginning to pass, with more time passing between each flash of lightning.

“Better, baby?”

Loki nodded and reached his hand down to twine with the one pressed against his stomach. “I am… Thank you.”

“You’re welcome… I love you, Loki.”

“I…I love you too,” Loki whispered back. He felt his chest tighten at his own words, his heart beating a little faster. He did, though…. He did love this man.

“Goodnight, Loki.” Another kiss was pressed to the back of his neck. 

“Goodnight, James.”

James’ arm tightened around Loki, warm and possessive. Loki fell back into the embrace and let his eyes slip closed. Outside the storm continued on, though growing less wild with each passing minute. But Loki slowly fell asleep knowing that he was safe and secure in his lover’s arms. James was there to protect him from the storms now.


	2. Chapter 2

The alarm clock began to beep at exactly 6:00 am, same as it did every morning. And just like every morning, Loki was overwhelmed with the urge to throw the damn thing out the window, then track down the maker of it and burn him alive. The only thing that prevented him from acting on this homicidal rage, of course, was his boyfriend’s quick reaction time. James was a light sleeper—a side-effect from his days in the marines—and was always quick to press the button on the alarm before it turned 6:01. The only downside was that there was no off button on him.

“Loki, baby,” James’ voice whispered in his ear. He kissed the shell of the ear when Loki didn’t do more than let out a low ‘hrmmm…’

“Time to get up, Loki,” he continued. Now his fingers were trailing along the curve of Loki’s hip towards his abdomen.

“Don’t wanna,” Loki mumbled. He turned his face down into his pillow so that he could shut out the world around him and get a few more precious minutes of sleep.

“Come on, baby,” James said. He began to nudge Loki with his shoulder. Loki just groaned in response. “Come on, Loki. Don’t make me do it.”

“You wouldn’t dare,” Loki mumbled into his pillow.

“You and I both know that I will.”

“Just let me sleep,” Loki groaned.

“That’s it.”

Before Loki could move, James was up and out of the bed. The warm blanket was ripped from Loki’s body, stripping him of his warm and comfortable cocoon. Loki only had enough time to grab the edge of the wooden headboard before James’ right hand closed around his ankle. Loki held on tight when his boyfriend began to pull him by the leg.

“On your feet, grunt!” James barked. “Let’s move it. Now. Now. Now!”

Loki lost his grip of the headboard after one particularly hard tug that pulled him halfway off the bed. James didn’t loosen his grip. 

“For fuck’s sake!” Loki growled.

“Language, grunt!” James shouted, still stuck in his marine mode. With his hand still wrapped around Loki’s ankle he began to walk backwards, pulling Loki along with him as his lover scrambled to grab the sheets.

“Out of that bed, grunt, and in the shower. Now! Be ready to leave this residence at 0700!”

“Alright already!” Loki shouted. He shook his ankle to get James to let go and tried his best to position himself to sit up on the bed. “I’m up… Jesus Christ. I hate it when you fucking do that.”

James was laughing as he ducked out of the way of the pillow Loki threw towards his head. “I hate doing it to you—” 

“No you don’t.”

“Alright, I don’t,” he shrugged. “But I wouldn’t have to if you would actually get your cute ass up on time.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Loki said with a roll of his eyes. He let out a deep yawn and rubbed the sleep out of his eye with the heel of his palm.

“Don’t be such a grump,” James teased. “You know that if I didn’t do that, you’d turn off the alarm in your sleep and be late for work again.”

“That was one time!” James gave Loki a pointed look. “Alright, three times. But that second time was your fault.”

“So you say.”

Loki gave him a narrowed look. “Don’t you dare start that again.”

Throughout his life, Loki seemed to have mastered the art of the hateful, bitch-glare. He’d had a lot of practice, after all. From the time he was five years old and teased by all of the older kids on his street, Loki had been steeling himself inside, preparing himself for the harsh and unkind words the other children would no doubt give him. And they did. They all said he was too skinny, his black hair looked greasy, or he was a loser who spent too much time reading his books. Then came the words of the boys and girls who would see him on the arm of the school’s star pitcher and deem him unworthy. Oh, if Loki had a nickel for every time he overheard their jealous whispers. 

But Loki was nothing if not a diva. He was better than jealous children, and he knew it. So he never responded to them verbally—they were beneath him and therefore not worthy enough for him to waste his breath on—but in order to keep from appearing weak, he became a master of the bitch-face. Whenever he grew tired of hearing the children chatter, all he would have to do was tilt his head down ever so slightly, narrow his eyes, and look up at his target. The move always made him look insane, murderous even and never failed to shut up whoever it was directed at. His bitch-glare worked on everyone, from cheerleading captains to overly-muscled blonde oaf pitchers. No one was immune.

Except for James “Bucky” Barnes.

Under the intensity of Loki’s glare—so hateful that he could practically see the fire glowing in those green eyes—James grinned. He nudged Loki’s legs apart so that he could kneel down between them. He took Loki’s left hand in his right and rubbed his thumb over the skin. Then he did the most unfair thing possible. He gave Loki that look. That damn look with his big blue eyes beneath his long, thick lashes that was so damn soulful and honest, and made worse with the accompaniment of the small curve of his full lips. It was like kryptonite to Loki. Bastard wasn’t playing fair.

Loki felt himself melting under that gaze until his shoulders slumped in defeat and he gave James a weak smile. 

“Loki?”

“Yeah?”

James leaned in, blue eyes focused on Loki’s green, until his full lips were a mere inch away from Loki’s. The tip of Loki’s tongue nervously poked out to wet his lower lip. His eyes flicked down to James’ lips, just waiting for him to come a little closer.

“…You fucking stink, babe. Go take a shower.”

Loki’s jaw dropped in shock before he reached out his hand to shove James’ away by that smug face. James’ tumbled back onto the floor, laughing.

“You’re such an ass,” Loki told him. 

“And I’m quite fond of yours. So tight and cute and grab-able.” He grinned and raised his hand to make a squeezing motion.

“Shut up,” Loki laughed. “If I have to get a shower, then I at least demand that breakfast be ready by the time I get out.”

“Awww… I was in the mood for waffles,” he pouted. 

“Takes too long. Besides, I have to get to work a little early today. We’re having a brainstorming meeting for the Stark Industries account. It’s my turn to bring the coffee and bagels.”

“And yet you get mad when I try to wake you up?” Loki answered him by kicking him lightly in the shin. “Alright. Go get showered and I’ll have some bacon and toast ready for his majesty when he gets out.”

“That’s all I ask for. Now go on, before you make me late.”

“Yeah, yeah,” James said. 

Loki turned from his boyfriend and took off to the bathroom, closing and locking the door behind him. Looking in the mirror he saw the fucking train wreck staring back at him. His medium-length black hair was curled and sticking out in various places from the tossing and turning in his sleep. There were dark circles underneath his eyes as well, a result from the previous late nights at the office. The damn Stark Industries account was going to be the death of him, he swore it. Loki made sure to avoid looking down at his flat stomach in the mirror, but unconsciously—as he always did—his fingertips touched the faded stretch marks.

Before he could let himself go down that road, again, Loki turned away from the mirror and stripped so that he could get into the shower. He decided to go quickly in the shower that morning, giving himself only ten minutes instead of the usual fifteen. If he didn’t then he was going to get stuck waiting in the coffee shop and morning traffic again. It was only a forty minute commute from his house in Woodhaven to the office in Manhattan, but Loki wanted to give himself enough time to at least try to beat the morning traffic. There was one thing that he could never get used to living and working in the city, and that was how fucking crazy everyone was once behind the wheel of their car. When Loki had first moved there three years ago, he thought for sure he would be dead within a week. Loki is nothing if not a survivor, though.

After his quick shower, Loki rushed through his morning routine. He shaved, brushed his teeth, combed his hair back, applied some concealer to the circles under his eyes—hence why he locked the door, because he would never hear the end of it if James caught him—and mentally prepared himself for the day. He knew he was letting the job get to him, but the Stark account was really important to his agency. Landing the account would mean that everyone in the office would be able to get a pay increase, then Loki could actually put money away for an actual house, rather than this pitiful duplex he was living in now… Well that or he could actually pay off the student loan officers that had been harassing him since he’d graduated grad school five years before. Like bloodhounds those loan officers were.

When he was done with his morning routine, Loki slipped on a clean pair of boxers and went downstairs to join his boyfriend in the kitchen. Upon entering, Loki was greeted with the lovely sight of a shirtless James, long hair done up in a messy bun, as he put the final touches on the kitchen table. A plate of toast—some buttered, some covered in strawberry jelly—a small plate of bacon, a boiled egg for Loki, and a cup of orange juice for himself.

“All done already?” James asked, looking up from where he was pouring the cream into Loki’s coffee mug. “That was fast. Usually the duration of your showers give me enough time to make French toast and eggs benedict.”

“Didn’t feel like turning myself into a prune this morning,” Loki said. “Do I still stink?” He asked as James handed him his coffee.

His boyfriend smiled and dipped his head to kiss his neck. Loki smiled and wrapped his free arm around him in a loose hug.

“Nope,” James answered after taking a big inhale. “You smell like honey, vanilla, and sugar.”

“Funny, considering not one of those fragrances are in my soap.”

“Damn, baby. Then you need to sweat and bottle that shit. Start selling it by the ounce and make a fortune selling it to the tween market.”

“Uh-huh. And what, pray tell, will I do with said sweat fortune?”

“Buy me pretty jewelry and take me on vacations we can’t afford. You know how I need to be kept and pampered.”

“Oh, but if I did that, you’d get all spoiled and lazy, and let’s be honest,” Loki grinned and reached his hand out to touch his boyfriend’s sculpted abdominal muscles, “I like a man who’s fit.”

“Oh I’d keep working out for you, baby,” James smiled. “I wouldn’t want you to lose interest and find another trophy boy.”

“Never,” Loki said. He leaned in to kiss James. “You’re going to make me late again, James.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” he said with a smirk.

“Seriously? After the hounding you just gave me upstairs?”

“Ok, drama queen,” he sighed, rolling his eyes. “Sit down and eat your breakfast then.”

Breakfast passed with the two of them sitting in a comfortable silence. Loki focused on eating his food while James took a bite from his plate every now and then when he occasionally looked up from the sports page of the newspaper. The toast was good. James always knew just the right amount of jelly to put on the toast so that it didn’t get lumpy and soggy. Loki was never good about that. 

Years ago it was Loki who made all of the morning meals. He had to back then, because Thor had no time to spare before getting ready for work in the morning. Loki was an awful cook back then. Actually he was still an awful cook, but he was better at masking it by not making overly complicated meals. As a child the only thing he’d learned to make on his own was spaghetti and meatballs, his favorite food. After leaving home he’d experimented with learning to cook; looking up recipes for omelets, casseroles, fajitas, desserts, anything he could find. All of his creations had turned out horribly, though. They were always either burned or undercooked, had too much salt or just missing an ingredient. Whatever it was, Loki could never seem to get it right. Thor never said anything to him, though. He would always smile, look at Loki with love in his eyes, and thank him for the meal.

The last meal he tried to make for him was scrambled eggs. They were too runny when they were thrown against the wall.

That was the good thing about living in the city now. Loki very seldom cooked for himself now and instead mostly relied on take-out or deliveries. Since meeting James two years ago, though, he’d been getting more home-cooked meals. James was a fantastic cook, and he liked to remind Loki of his superiority over Loki in the culinary arts. All of his meals were prepared to perfection and adapted to whatever specifications were necessary to please the person he cooked for. Loki had tried to cook for him, once. He made a vegetable lasagna plate. James had taken one bite before he deemed it terrible. Loki had been embarrassed and angry at first, but James had just laughed and told Loki that it was alright. He actually found it refreshing that Loki had at least one flaw, it made him feel a little less intimidated. Though it was a little blunt, Loki had appreciated the honesty.

After breakfast James had offered to put the dishes in the washer so that Loki could get dressed. The outfit of the day Loki chose was one of the nicer suits that he owned, one of the few that he had allowed himself to splurge on. It was a dark grey suit with light colored pinstripes. A tight white shirt underneath a form-fitting waistcoat, buttoned up to the center of his chest, but connected together with a pocket watch chain. Between the shirt and waistcoat, he chose to wear a dark—almost black—green tie. He was just about to throw on his jacket when he looked in the mirror and saw that James was behind him, checking him out in the mirror. More specifically, he was checking out his ass.

That was another reason Loki liked this suit. It was tailored to perfection, showing off his long legs and the curve of his ass. The material wore tight around that area, making the swell of his ass look full and, in James’ words, grab-able. It was nice to know that someone appreciated his taste in clothing. 

“If you’re waiting for the finale to this show, then I’m sorry, but this all that I do.”

“And what a fine performance it is.”

“I’ve got ten minutes before I have to leave, James,” Loki smirked. “Get dressed and be ready to go.”

“I see how it is. Use my body at night and then kick me out in the morning. You make me feel so cheap, Lokes.”

“Oh please,” Loki scoffed. “Most cheap whores would have been gone before sunrise. You just seem to stick around.”

“That I do,” he winked.

As James stripped himself of his sweatpants, Loki went to his closet to find his shoes. The look wasn’t complete without his leather Tanzen boots. Of course people around the office never really understood why Loki put so much effort into his appearance. The copywriting agency Loki worked for was one of the smaller ones in the city, started up by an idealistic man going through his mid-life crisis. His boss, agency director Phil Coulson, had once been a part of a larger copywriting agency named SHIELD, but later left the firm after it was bought out by their corporate rivals HYDRA. Director Coulson took a few of the people from the firm with him when he left and decided to start his own business. He wanted it to be a casual place, where the workers felt comfortable and at home, thus they had no dress code. Still, Loki was an adult, and would thus dress appropriately for his position.

Truth be told, he wasn’t sure that Coulson particularly liked him. The man was always casting him suspicious glances or saying cryptic comments. He’d hired Loki, though, based on his credentials, writing talent, and, of course, his last name; Löfgren. Coulson had of course been aware of the Löfgren Publishing Company and the fact that their logo was stamped on nearly every book published in the United States. He probably believed that Loki still had some kind of connection to the company and would perhaps grant them their biggest client. Obviously that didn’t happen…Probably the reason why Coulson disliked him so much.

Coulson still had some larger connections up his sleeve, though. While working for the SHIELD agency, he had been a part of some of the consulting work for the products coming out of Stark Industries, both for their military and consumer products. The CEO of the company, Tony Stark, apparently wasn’t happy with the way that HYDRA was currently handling his account and was rumored to be in the market for a new agency. Coulson had contacted his former director, Nicholas Fury, and had him contact Stark. After weeks of waiting, the CEO had finally agreed to a meeting with the small firm set up for next month. If they landed the Stark account it would finally be the break that the small agency needed. A lot was riding on this.

“Hey, Loki. Can you give me a hand?”

Loki poked his head out of the closet to see James sitting on the edge of the bed. He was wearing a loose fitting pair of jeans, but missing a shirt. He was using his right arm to lean back on the bed. His left arm was raised, the smooth end of skin that ended at his elbow joint pointing towards where he left his prosthetic on the bedside table. He was watching Loki expectantly, eyebrows raised and waiting for Loki to comment on his cleverness.

Instead, Loki sighed and rolled his eyes. He picked up the prosthetic from the table, took it off the charger, and set to work strapping it to James’ elbow joint. James just flashed him a cheesy smile.

“Are you ever going to stop making that joke?”

“Not likely,” he answered honestly. “If I can’t have a sense of humor, then what the hell have I got, Lokes?”

“An arm that comes straight out of the Star Wars franchise?”

“Star Wars? Nah, this is Terminator stuff if anything.”

Once the arm was secured in place, James flipped on the program switch and set the thumb in place. The black metal hand came to life, the little motors in the finger joints whirring as they began to clasp Loki’s hand. James liked to joke about it, but this bionic arm of his was a godsend, giving him back a piece of normalcy that his old prosthetic never could. 

James didn’t like to talk about it a lot, but during his time in the marines he had been a Scout Sniper. One of the best of his unit and considered to have one of the best kill-rates in the US military. His skill had earned him placement on special operations—special meaning that he wasn’t allowed to tell Loki about them—in Iraq and Afghanistan. Four years ago, one of these operations went wrong and James had lost the lower half of his left arm when his convoy was attacked by the terrorist organization the Ten Rings. 

Afterwards he was honorably discharged from active service, but still given employment by training student for the Scout Sniper Basic Course. Loki wasn’t sure what James’ life was like before losing his arm, nor the first few years after, but when they had met, James always seemed to have this caring nature and zest for life that Loki couldn’t help find endearing. When he had first met James, his prosthetic had been simple and mostly for aesthetic purposes. He didn’t have any mobility in it and often he preferred to go without it at all. Though it had taken a while before he felt comfortable enough to take it off around Loki. He wasn’t ashamed of it, but self-conscious as to how Loki would react. It was a surprise to Loki at first, but he didn’t care about that. James was a wonderful and beautiful man, nothing else mattered.

Six months ago, though, James finally came off of the waiting list for a new bionic arm. It had taken weeks of training his muscles and programing the software, but with the new prosthetic, he was finally able to grip and use the prosthetic as he would a normal hand. He was so happy to be able to use his rifle again for his classes. Loki was just happy that he was happy.

“Thanks, baby.” James leaned forward and gave Loki a peck on the lips.

“You’re welcome. Just no more puns, ok?”

“I can’t make that promise.” 

“Why must you be so difficult?”

“You love me because I’m feisty,” he grinned.

“Yes I do.” Loki kissed his cheek. “Now get your lazy ass up before I’m late.”

“Yes, your majesty.”

Loki left him to return to his closet search for his boots. He found them tucked away in a box in the back corner of the closet. As he was pulling them on, he heard a soft ‘damn it’ come from the other side of the room. James was digging through the top drawer of the dresser, searching through the various shirts and pants he had packed in there.

“What’s wrong?”

“I forgot to bring my new SSBC shirt. Shit! I thought for sure that I brought it with me.”

“That was last time, dear. Remember? You wore it when you left because you had an afternoon course. I think your old one is still in there, though. Did you need it today?”

“Not really, but I really wanted to wear it down to the VA today. Sam asked me to speak at his group session.”

James sighed in frustration as he pulled out his old shirt. The once black shirt was now faded to grey, the Marine Corps logo over the heart nearly scratched and faded off. On the left sleeve, though, James’ name in white letters remained. Well, actually the James part of his name was gone, leaving only his nickname Bucky and his last name. Loki had no idea where he acquired that name—James had said something about it being a childhood thing that stuck—but he absolutely hated it. He didn’t mind if everyone else called him by his nickname, but Loki refused to. It made him feel like he was dating a kid.

“Oh, well maybe you should start leaving the shirt over here. I do most of your laundry as it is.”

“Yeah, but this drawer already seems like it’s about to burst.”

“Is it? I can empty out another drawer for you. It’s almost winter, so you’ll need more space for your sweaters and coats anyway.”

“Yeah,” James nodded. “That’s one possibility… Or you can finally take me up on my offer.”

Loki felt his heart skip a beat as James brought up this subject again. He froze in place and tried to remain calm, but his apprehension must have shown on his face, because James’ eyes went from hopeful to discouraged in under a second.

“Loki—” 

“James, can we please not talk about this right now?”

“Why not, Loki?” He asked, stepping closer as if it would somehow close the emotional distance that Loki had set up between them.

“It makes sense,” he reasoned. “We’ve been dating for two years now. We spend almost every night at one another’s place anyway… Steve is planning to move in with Peggy as soon as the lease is up, so we’d have plenty of space in my apartment. Plus, it’s only fifteen minutes from your office by train… and I… I really want us to take that next step, Loki. I think that we’re ready.”

On paper it all made sense. James’ apartment was a nice two bedroom rent-controlled building in a good part of Brooklyn, an inheritance from Steve’s grandfather. It was large enough for the two of them, in better shape than the duplex he was currently renting, and close enough to the office that he could sleep in in the morning. The other things James said made sense as well. The two of them had been in a committed relationship for two years now and had already passed several of the major couple milestones. They had met each other’s friends, attended each other’s work functions, Loki had met his family, they’d had and survived couple fights, gone on holidays together, and, most importantly and the hardest for Loki, said “I love you.” Moving in together was the obvious next logical step, and one that should have happened long before the two year mark

Still, whenever the subject was brought up, Loki would either shoot it down or avoid it completely. For a few months that tactic had worked, but James had become more persistent of late, to the point where Loki wasn’t entirely sure if James really did forget his shirt or not.

Loki couldn’t delude himself forever. He knew that eventually they were going to have to talk about this. Every time the subject was brought up, though, a deep, paralyzing panic would set in. A part of him really wanted to do it. A part of him was whispering encouraging words in his ear, telling him that James was a good man who adored him and Loki loved him in return. But there was also another part of Loki, a bigger part, which told him that moving in together would lead to something larger…something that Loki wasn’t ready to face again. He didn’t want to go through that pain ever again.

“James,” Loki sighed. “I’ve got to get to work. Can we please…just talk about this later?”

James’ eyes moved down to the floor and his lips came out in that familiar pout that always had Loki melting and wanting to give in. On this subject, though, he knew he had to keep his resolve. 

“James, I—” 

“It’s fine, Loki,” he cut him off. “Really, it’s fine. We’ll just talk about this later.”

“Please don’t be angry with me.”

That caused James to look back at him. He looked completely shocked, as if Loki had said the most unbelievable thing imaginable.

“No, Loki,” he said. He stepped forward to wrap his arms around Loki’s waist. “I’m not mad. God, it’s just… No, you’re right. We can do this later.”

“Thank you.” Loki gave him a peck on the lips.

The silence that usually followed this conversation fell on them again, and just like that they were back in their little stand-off. He knew that James wouldn’t broach the subject again for a few days at least. Like always, Loki knew that it wasn’t going to be enough time to figure things out. Then they’ll be right back where they started.

“Come on,” Loki said. “I’ll give you a lift into the city.”

“Actually, it’s ok. I’ll take the train.”

“James, it’s no trouble.”

“I know, but it’s ok. I… Nevermind,” he shook his head. “I’ll be ok. Just go ahead and head to work. I’ll see you when you get off tonight, ok?”

“Alright,” Loki nodded.

They said kissed one final time and said their goodbyes outside. Loki watched James as he walked off towards the subway station, waiting until he rounded the corner before he got into his car. Loki had a feeling that their talk was going to come a lot sooner than Loki would have liked.

 

James knew about Loki’s marriage. Well, he didn’t know the details of Loki’s marriage. All that he knew were the few details that Loki shared. Loki had told him that he had moved in with his first boyfriend after high school; they were together a few years before finally getting married; the marriage only lasted a little over a year; and then Loki moved across the country to make a new life for himself. That was all.

Loki had never told James that Thor was the best friend he had grown up with. He never told him about their backyard games, where they would play as dragon tamers or Rangers and elves. James didn’t know that Loki once believed that his world began and ended with Thor, and that the moment of his life was split between two events: the moment he told Thor about his pregnancy and the moment they had both said I do. James didn’t know about Hela.

James was a good man, and never pushed Loki for details as to why his marriage ended. The best explanation Loki would give him was that he had been too young and idealistic for marriage. It was better than having to explain how he held his lifeless daughter in his arms and cried for hours on end, begging his husband to somehow make it all better and how eventually his grief turned to anger. Anger that was directed at the man who never fulfilled his promise to figure out how to make it all better.

Coming home from the hospital without Hela was one of the hardest things Loki had ever had to do in his life. Thor had held him as he first walked through the threshold of the house, but Thor couldn’t force Loki to walk up the stairs into their bedroom. The nursery was right next to their room and Loki didn’t want to have to look at it, didn’t want to have to see that empty room. He spent the first few weeks sleeping on the sofa in the living room just so he could avoid having to step foot anywhere near that room. Thor was supportive, at first, and even camped out in the living room with him so that he could hold on to Loki at night as he cried. Having him there to hold him at night was at first comforting, but in his sleep, Thor’s hand would unconsciously rest on Loki’s rounded, slowly deflating stomach, reminding Loki over and again what he had lost. After the first week, Loki asked to be alone.

It took two months and a visit from Natasha before Loki could work up the nerve to go upstairs and walk past the door to the nursery. By that time, Thor had given up trying to get Loki anywhere near there and Loki had resigned himself to sleeping on their lumpy sofa. Natasha had always been a hardass, though. She was a fighter who didn’t tolerate weakness in anyone, least of all her best friend. That’s what Loki admired so much about her. She kept him grounded and gave him a good kick ass when he needed it. She saw Loki laying on the sofa, hair a mess, face gaunt from not eating and eyes always red from crying, and she reminded Loki that he was stronger than that. 

Natasha had held his hand all the way up the stairs and said nothing when he nearly crushed her bones as they got closer to the door. When Loki paused outside of it, hand gently touching the door, Natasha didn’t say a word. She didn’t try to pull Loki away from it or encourage him to go inside. All she did was hold his hand and let Loki make the decision for himself. When Loki pushed open the door and stepped inside, she was the one to catch him as he broke down sobbing. 

The nursery was just as it was when he and Thor had finished it in Loki’s eighth month. Thor had wanted to paint the room a light shade of red for his favorite color, but Loki wanted green. They decided to settle the matter over a flip of the coin, which landed in Loki’s favor. Thor grew to love it, though, when Loki used the color to paint their own personal Shire. Plain green walls were transformed into rolling hills of grass and flowers, with little round doors marking the Hobbit holes. On the far wall Thor and Loki had painted the Hobbit hole with the green doors, round windows and flower garden. That’s where they set their bassinet, at the door of Bilbo’s home.

Seeing that room hurt almost as much as it did the moment the doctor told him that Hela’s umbilical cord had prolapsed and he hadn’t made it to the hospital in time to save her. It was like someone had reached into his chest, grabbed hold of his heart, and squeezed with all their might. Loki couldn’t speak, he couldn’t breathe. All he could feel was the pain and guilt, wondering what he had done and why his little girl wasn’t there anymore. Natasha held onto him tight, letting him cry and scream and curse. Like a good friend, though, she didn’t make Loki go back in that room.

Thor had tried, though. That was the beginning of the end. When Loki began to come back to their bed at night, Thor thought perhaps Loki was getting better. Since the death of their daughter Loki had shut himself off to Thor, refusing to eat or speak to him. When Loki slept in their bed again, Thor thought that maybe Loki would come back to him and they could work through their grief together. Truth be told, though, Loki was just numb to Thor’s presence. It didn’t matter to him that he was shutting his husband out and that he could no longer share his thoughts with the love of his life. Nothing mattered without Hela.

Thor tried to talk to him about what they should do with the nursery. Should they keep it the way it was, or should they take it apart and paint over the walls? Thor thought—people had suggested to him—that it would be easier if perhaps they chose the latter. That’s when Loki let loose all of the sadness and rage inside of him. He screamed at Thor, threw things, and even broke the mobile, saying that if Thor wanted to forget their daughter so much then there was no point in keeping it. That was unfair of him, and Loki knew it, but he was just so angry. How could Thor want to take apart their daughter’s nursery, as if she had never been there at all? She was a part of them, she had grown inside of Loki, and he had felt her move, felt her kick, felt her be alive inside of him. He couldn’t just take away everything and pretend she had never been there at all.

From that point on nearly every conversation they had became an argument. They fought and screamed constantly, about everything from Hela, their families, the bills, Thor’s job and Loki’s lack of one to Loki’s decision to give up Brown University for Thor. That last one in particular cut deep for both of them. Thor asked Loki if he regretted giving it up to be with him, and Loki—so angry—had shouted that he was always the one to give up something for Thor while his husband was never willing to sacrifice in return. Loki was forced to be something lesser so that Thor could shine as he always did. It hurt Thor, because, in a way, it was true. Loki was the one to give up his family, his chance at a first-rate education, his chance for a career and his future. And for what? What was the payoff for all of that sacrifice? Loki had once thought that giving all of that up for Thor would have been worth it. Their love was supposed to be worth all of the sacrifices he’d made throughout his life. Now that their fantasy was shattered by the tragedy of reality, though, Loki realized for the first time that maybe it wasn’t worth it after all.

Four months after their first anniversary the divorce papers were filed. Eight months after their first anniversary, Loki moved to New York. A year after their first anniversary he’d gotten the job as a copywriter. Two years after their anniversary, Loki met James Barnes.

They had met through a work party, of all things. It was a year after Loki had gotten the copywriting job at Coulson’s agency. They had just completed a job for a small publishing company who were releasing the first novel of an up-and-coming author. Loki had been responsible for creating the promotional taglines for the book as well as assisting on the information in the book-sleeves. The book itself was a piece of shit, written by a bored housewife who fancied herself a misunderstood artist, but who was really just trying to cash in on the teen vampire crazy. _Love Bites_ , was what the thing was called, and it was some of the worst drivel that Loki had ever been forced to read. Somehow, though, his silvertongue had managed to twist the clichéd plot into the coming of age tale and forbidden love story of the decade. The book managed to sell well enough, so the publishing company decided to celebrate. 

Everyone involved in the slightest sense was invited to the party thrown by the publishers, from the editor to the unpaid intern. That was how Loki managed to meet the designer of the book cover, Steve Rogers. Steve Rogers was a man out of time. Polite, courteous, and the model of a 1940s gentleman. He held open doors, got drinks for anyone who asked, and made it a point to introduce himself to everyone with a bright smile and a firm handshake. He told Loki that he was a recent graduate of NYU with a degree in graphic design. Like Loki, he too worked for a small firm that was hoping to branch out. He’d gotten the job after he was discharged from the marines, having served two tours in Iraq and was hoping to readjust to life outside of the military again. Oh, and he brought his best friend and roommate along with him to the party. Thus, Loki was introduced to James “Bucky” Barnes.

Despite the story that James liked to tell, it wasn’t love at first sight for Loki. He would know. He was the one who had experienced that at age five. Meeting James was something, though; something significant that Loki wasn’t sure how to describe. Since leaving Thor he’d had the opportunity to meet and date other men and women. He’d been hit on, flirted with, and propositioned too many times to count since he came to the city, and each time Loki would either turn the other down or just hit them with his trademark bitch-glare and the other would back off… It was different with James, though.

Like Steve, James conducted himself as a model gentleman. He politely introduced himself to Loki, asked him questions about his job and actually listened when he spoke about his career ambitions. Cliché as it may have been, James had managed to capture Loki’s attention for the remainder of the party and afterwards as he convinced Loki to come along with him and Steve for a light night cup of coffee. James didn’t try to hit on Loki, he didn’t try to invade his personal space, or even let his interest show outright. Instead he had just talked to Loki. He was kind. 

The late night coffee ended with James asking Loki if they could do it again sometime. Loki agreed, and for the first time since he was thirteen years old, he went on a date. One date turned into two. Two turned into three. Three dates turned into calls every night, funny text messages, plans for the weekend, and so on until Loki somehow found himself in a relationship.

It was three years, seven months, and twelve days after Loki and Thor’s first anniversary that Loki found himself saying “I love you” to a man who wasn’t Thor.

Loki didn’t know how it happened, or even that he was capable of it. Somehow the feelings that he thought were dead inside of him were given new life and he actually felt _something_ in the space where his heart used to be. That of course led to shame and guilt for Loki. After what happened with Thor, after losing Hela, Loki didn’t feel as if he needed or even deserved love anymore. How dare he be happy after losing the two things that he loved most in the world? How dare he try to move on and forget about his little girl?

For a while, the guilt was enough to have him avoiding James. He stopped returning calls and texts, didn’t make plans to see him again, and even pretended not to be home on a few occasions. Though James was persistent, he did respect Loki enough to give him his space and he told Loki that he would wait for him. He said that he’d never been as happy as when he was with Loki. He didn’t want to lose him, but he wasn’t going to push Loki if he didn’t feel the same. 

Once again, it took Natasha to kick Loki’s ass into shape. After two weeks of avoiding James, Loki had broken down and called his old friend. Up until that point he hadn’t told her that he was seeing anyone, let alone that he had told another man that he loved him. Natasha, good friend that she was, gave Loki the scolding he needed. Losing Hela wasn’t his fault, she had said. Losing Thor wasn’t his fault either. Sometimes couples can’t fix themselves after a tragedy. Sometimes the person we love isn’t the person that we’re meant to be with in the end. She told Loki that he needed to man up and not let go of a second chance to be happy. It didn’t make him a bad person, she said. It just meant that he was finally beginning to heal. Loki knew she was right. He loved James, so he had to take down the walls he’d built between himself and the world. He had to let someone in again.

Now with the prospect of living together hanging over his head, Loki felt that familiar shame and guilt creeping back on him. Living with James meant that they were taking a step closer towards an uncertain future. One that could possibly lead to proposals and children and the eventuality of it all falling apart all over again. Loki didn’t want to wake up one morning and realize that he couldn’t stand to look at the man he once loved. He didn’t want to lose his voice from nights of screaming or have to sweep up the remains of shattered plates. He didn’t want to feel another life growing inside of him and face the possibility that it too could be snuffed out so easily like Hela.

Loki wanted James. He’d allowed himself to love again, but he didn’t want to go through that pain again. 

 

Luck was on his side that morning as the coffee shop he usually stopped at only had about three people waiting in line. Typically there would be three times as many people in here grabbing their morning coffee before heading off to work, hence why Loki wanted to leave the house earlier. Oh, and Peter was manning the counter as well! That boy was the fastest barista Loki had ever seen, so he took it as a sign that today, despite the cloud hanging over his head, was going to be a good day. 

“Ugh… I am not made for this time of day.”

Loki’s eyebrow raised and he turned to look over his shoulder to see where that voice was coming from. It belonged the rather short girl standing in the line directly behind him. The girl was a tiny, yet certainly curvy little thing. She had a soft china-doll face, with big brown eyes beneath a fashionable pair of secretary glasses and full lips painted the same pink color as the knitted wool cap on her head. He thought that perhaps the girl was just making an idle comment, but Loki made the mistake of making eye contact. Now she was looking up expectantly at him, waiting for a response.

“No one is. Thus the need for overpriced caffeine.”

The girl smiled and nodded. Loki hoped that was the end of it, but the girl had other plans.

“Well, at least I’m not the one paying for it. Big boss-man gave me the company card and foolishly placed his trust in me. I may have to take advantage and clean out the pastries as revenge for making me get up this early.”

“Yes, that would certainly show him,” Loki scoffed. “If you’re going to abuse the power, at least use the card to put a down payment on an apartment or a car. If you’re going to get fired for something, at least make it more worthwhile than a two day old croissant.”

“You are an evil fiend,” the girl said. “Teach me.”

“Villains don’t have plucky child sidekicks. Sorry,” Loki shrugged.

“You’re missing out, then, because I am one hell of an intern,” she said proudly. “I’m Darcy.”

“Loki.”

“Weird name.”

“So I’ve been told.”

“So, Loki… How do we make awkward small talk now?”

The person ahead of him in line just finished placing with their order, and now Peter was calling for the next customer.

“We don’t,” he answered her.

Loki placed his order for two large pots of coffee to go, one caffeinated and one de-caf. He also asked for fourteen bagels, one of every kind. There were fifteen people who worked in the office, and each and every one of them liked the blueberry bagels the best. It was going to cause a frenzy when he got to work, but some men just like to watch the world burn. 

“I see I’m not the only one being forced to schlep coffee around town,” Darcy commented. “Shame. From the fancy suit I thought you were a big deal. Are you an assistant too?”

“I’m a copywriter,” Loki answered. “And you can’t quite call yourself an assistant if you’re only interning.”

“That’s just how I work my way in. I intern for a bit, get chummy with the right people, and the next thing you know I’m the personal assistant to the CEO of the B. Corp.”

“And how exactly do you plan to do that?”

“You’re underestimating how charming I can be.”

“I don’t find you charming.”

“And yet you’re still talking to me,” she grinned. Well, damn. She had him there.

Before Loki could give the girl a snarky reply, Peter appeared out of nowhere with his order ready. Bless this kid and his speed. Loki took the order, thanked the boy and paid. He turned to leave when he heard Darcy call after him.

“Bye, coffee-buddy! Same time tomorrow?”

“Not likely,” he shouted back.

“I’ll see you same time then!”

Alright, the girl was just endearing enough to be charming. If Loki did come back the next morning, though, it certainly wouldn’t be because of her. This place just made some damn good coffee. Laughing to himself, Loki loaded the bagels and coffee into the passenger seat of his car and made sure they were secure before rounding the car to get in. When he put his hand on the handle, though, he felt his phone vibrate in his coat pocket. He pulled it out, expecting to find a message from Coulson telling him to get his ass into work already. To his surprise, though, his phone was flashing James’ smiling face and telling him that he received a text message.

Loki felt his stomach tightened and prepared himself for the worst, the way he always did whenever their conversations about moving in together went sour. He swiped his phone and looked down at the message… It was a cat. More than that it was a picture of grumpy cat. The caption around the angry looking cat read “I don’t like morning people. Or mornings. Or people.”

Loki laughed and his phone vibrated with another incoming message.

_Remind you of anyone? ;) Have a good day at work, baby. And try not to kill anyone. And I’m sorry about this morning, Lokes. I didn’t mean to put pressure on you. We’ll talk about it when you’re ready. Chinese tonight? I love you._

Loki stared at the phone for a minute, reading the message over and over again. Slowly a sad smile spread across his face. He felt the guilt coming back on him again. God… Loki loved this man, he really did. But each time James did something sweet or forgave him so easily, Loki was reminded again of how he didn’t deserve love or happiness. After losing Hela and after what he did to Thor, Loki didn’t deserve someone as good as James… No matter how many walls he put up between himself and the rest of the world, though, James always seemed to find a way to tear them down.

Without thinking, Loki typed out a quick “I love you too” in reply and put his phone away. He still hoped that today would be a good day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, I promise I will get back to Glorious Purpose. I just had the urge to keep going with this one. Hope you liked it :)


	3. Chapter 3

James chewed on the jagged piece of his nail, head down and eyes on the floor as he waited his turn to speak. The group was a bit larger than usual today, he noted. On a typical group meeting day, there were about eight to ten people. Today there were almost fifteen. He wondered if Sam had anything to do with that. He’d said before that a lot of people were becoming disillusioned and restless in the group meetings, looking for an easy cure or a way to become “normal” again. He’d thought that having him speak about his own experience would help them see that it wasn’t going to be easy, that it was a long road ahead. James himself still hadn’t reached the end of it.

The VA groups were nothing new to James. He had been raised in a military family; grandfather was one of the first men to storm the beach in Normandy on D-Day, great uncle had two tours in Vietnam, and his father and uncle were both a part of the first marine division to march into Kuwait in February of 1991. From the time he could walk, though, his grandfather, dad and uncle had taken him down to the VA to introduce him to the Veterans Association. For his grandfather, it was a place to connect with some of his war buddies and bitch about the current generation, or to show off what a strong little soldier his grandson was becoming. James had gone along with his grandfather so much that they adopted him as their little mascot, calling him Bucky after the shotgun shells. He remembered that his grandfather’s friends used to laugh good naturedly when he begged them to tell him their war stories. He’d always loved those. To James, it was like reading about Superman in the comics; hearing about how ordinary men could become heroes in the blink of an eye. They were his favorite stories… Which is why he never understood why his father or uncle never wanted to tell him any.

For years, whenever his father went to the VA, James wasn’t allowed to tag along. He used to beg and plead with his mom for the chance to go with his dad and finally be able to hear all of his cool war stories, but her answer was always no. She had said that his dad’s time in the Gulf wasn’t something that he liked to talk about and that he shouldn’t push. When James brought this up with his grandfather, he remembered that the old man had scoffed and told him again about how weak the new generation was. James had learned a lot from his grandfather. He taught him how to hold and shoot a rifle, how to hunt, how to always be chivalrous and act like a gentleman—another thing he felt that the new generation was lacking—and, most importantly, he taught him how to be a man.

In his grandfather’s opinion, a man is always brave. A man never shows weakness. A man never lets anyone see him cry. A man doesn’t need to talk about his feelings. His grandfather had tried to instill those ideals into his sons, but for his dad, the lesson didn’t seem to stick. After he came back from the Gulf, he’d spent a lot of time talking about his feelings to his mother, to his brother, to the people at the VA, but never to James. He wanted to protect him from that. His grandfather saw it all as a weakness, though, and for a long time, James did too.

James was eighteen when he first enlisted into the marines. It was during basic training that he met his best friend Steve Rogers, a man whose patriotic idealism outshined even his own, though his skills were a bit behind his own. He was twenty-one when he and Steve first went to Iraq. James spent the next seven years of his life in that country, with brief periods back home. He’d gone in with the hopes of one day coming home with stories like those his grandfather told; stories of bravery, heroism, comradery between men, and bringing peace. The reality of the situation wasn’t what he expected… Unlike in his grandfather’s time, there was no clear-cut way to distinguish good guys from the bad guys. A lot of mistakes happened along the way, on both sides. He saw a few friends die, saw a lot of people get hurt.

He found a way to distance himself from it, though, when he made a name for himself sniping. Steve was a natural born leader, and became sergeant of their fire team. James had told him all about his training with his grandfather throughout his childhood and saw his talent during basic training, so he became the team’s rifleman. James never missed his target, and their team never failed a mission. Within a year, James had the highest kill rate of any rifleman deployed in the country. His skill gave him a distraction, but it also gained him notoriety. Two years after being on Steve’s fire team, James was recruited into special-ops missions. 

For five years, James acted as their enforcer. He went to every dark place they told him to, took out targets no one else could touch, and did things that he convinced himself were heroic. It was all for a purpose, though. He’d planned to make this his career, because, honestly, he couldn’t picture his life without his rifle in his hand. The marines were in James’ blood. It was a part of his heritage, and he lived and breathed the Corps. To him, his rifle was like the extension of his own arm. James was that rifle. Then came the day that his truck had been hit by the RPG, and suddenly he was nothing at all.

It’s a sad thing to realize how useless you are after you’ve fulfilled your purpose. When James woke up in that hospital with tubes in his nose and a bandage wrapped around the remains of his elbow, there had been an overflow of support, from his platoon leader, from his commanding officer, from everyone who mattered. While his body was mending, he received letters of thanks for his service, letters of love from his family, and one letter from his grandfather, telling him how proud he was of his little Bucky. There was a lot of support, until he stepped off the plane and reentered life at home. The moment he walked through the door of his parents’ home, he was given a letter thanking him for his years of service, but telling him that the US Marines had no more use for him. That honorable discharge was a very hard blow for him.

For weeks, James had walked around his home with no true sense of purpose and trying his damndest to adjust back into the world. He had trouble sleeping at night. He had been used to camping out on the ground with nothing but his issued sleeping bag and the bed in his parents’ house was too damn soft. It felt as if he would sink through every time. The city was always too noisy as well. His typical special ops missions were in deserted areas or small towns, with nothing but the sound of insects in the open air. In the city, though, people were always shouting, always honking their horns or always in a rush. He just wanted everything to slow down again.

The worst of it, though, was trying to control himself when people stared. It had taken a lot of practice and therapy for him to adjust with just one arm, but after a while he began to grow confidant about it. When he went out, though, it was the first thing people saw when they looked at him. No one would ask, of course, but all the time he could feel the eyes drifting down to his prosthetic or the place where his arm used to be, wondering what had happened to him. Eventually, he got tired of the stares and stopped going out altogether. 

To try to bring him back to himself, his grandfather took him down to the VA to show him off to his friends. James thought that perhaps it could be like old times. Hearing his grandfather’s war buddies call him Bucky while they told their stories. When he took him there, though, his grandfather just paraded him around, showing the remnant of his arm to anyone who would look, and bragging about his “hero” grandson. His grandfather and his friends all urged him to tell his stories, specifically about the hit that made him lose his arm… He just couldn’t do it. Even that last little joy that the VA used to bring him was taken away.

He was angry for a long time, feeling as though he had lost everything. He couldn’t go out, he couldn’t go to the VA, he couldn’t sleep at night, he couldn’t stand people looking at him, and he couldn’t even reach for a glass of fucking water without knocking it over because he can still feel his hand there but all that’s there was that fucking prosthetic! He hated it! He hated feeling that way, hated that there was no one to turn to, hated that his dad started pressuring him to talk about his feelings. Every time his dad brought it up, his grandfather’s voice would ring out in his head reminding him that real men don’t talk about their feelings. Suck it up, don’t show weakness.

James could only last four months in his parents’ house before he found an apartment in Brooklyn, just so he could be alone and get away from the world. That had been the plan anyway. The reality of the situation was, unfortunately, that a good piece of real estate in the city did not come cheap, not even for a man who had given a piece of himself for his country. It was just his luck, though, that Steve had been discharged around the same time and was also looking for a place in the city. He looked up his old friend, and together they were able to get a nice two-bedroom in Brooklyn.

Steve was a good guy to live with. He didn’t leave a mess, didn’t bring girls or guys over, and didn’t do much except study for his classes at NYU. Most importantly, though, he didn’t push him. He didn’t push James when he wanted to hole up in his room for a while. He didn’t say anything when he would become frustrated with his prosthetic and—on one unfortunate incident—punch a hole through the drywall. He didn’t question why sometimes James needed to sleep on the hard floor of his bedroom rather than his bed. Steve didn’t push, he didn’t nag, and he didn’t urge him to share…He was just agreeable. Which is probably why he was able to trick James into meeting Sam Wilson.

Sam Wilson was a good man. Like James, he had grown up in an army family and joined up the moment he could legally enlist. He’d joined the Air Force and became a pararescuer. Also like James, he’d shown that he had a valuable skill that set him apart and allowed him to become a part of a secret special ops mission that he wasn’t allowed to divulge. And like James, an RPG had changed his life. Instead of taking away a piece of him, though, Sam had lost his wingman and partner, Riley. After losing him, Sam found that he couldn’t serve the way he had before and when his discharge came, he chose not to reenlist. James had been angry at first after hearing that, because he had chosen to leave while he had been forced out. James had it all taken from him; Sam gave it up.

It took weeks of Steve allowing Sam into the apartment before James began speaking with him again. It took months before he agreed to go with Sam to his group, and even more weeks before James finally did more than sit in the back and chew on his thumb nail. This group that he listened to at the VA wasn’t anything like his grandfather’s old war buddies. Instead of laughing and trading stories, they told their stories somberly. Some were angry, some were sad, but most were having trouble just being. The more James listened to these people tell their stories, the more he felt that maybe his grandfather was wrong. Maybe it wasn’t a weakness to want to find help to get past all of this anger, sadness, and self-pity he’d felt after being forced home. The first time that James opened up and told his story at the group was the first time he’d slept well since he’d been brought home.

Life started to steadily improve after that. It was hard, but he tried to get himself back together. He attended more physical therapy in order to help him adjust to life with one arm; he started to attend therapy regularly; he began to go out with Steve more; and he’d even gotten himself a job teaching new recruits at the academy sniper school. It gave him a sense of purpose again and, slowly, James began to feel like a real person again.

So when Sam asked him to speak to his group, James had instantly agreed, because he knew that he wouldn’t have come back if it hadn’t been for the VA group. If he could help bring someone else back, then maybe he would be able to sleep a little better at night.

Once Sam was done with his opening introductions and welcoming of the new members of the group, he gave the floor over to him. James stood up, walked to the front of the room, cleared his throat and looked out over the group as he thought of what would be the best thing to say.

Some of the people he recognized, like Linda who had come back from Afghanistan only four months earlier. She was still having some trouble adjusting and suffered from mild dissociation from time to time. She was getting better, though. There were others there that he didn’t recognize, some with missing limbs like himself, and others wearing that angry scowl that he knew all too well. 

“Hi, everyone,” he started. “I’m James, but you can call me Bucky. Everyone does.”

Except Loki, he thought with amusement.

“I…I’m not really sure what to say. Sam is usually much better at this than I am. Those of you who have been here before know that already. For everyone else, if this is your first time here, then I encourage you to stick around and listen to what he has to say.”

He heard what sounded like a scoff come from the back of the room. His eyes flashed over there and he saw a younger man, probably no more than his mid-twenties, leaning back in his chair with his arms over his chest and ankles crossed. It took a moment for him to realize that one of the ankles was a prosthetic, much like his old hand.

“It may not seem like it now, but it takes a lot of courage to come here… It’s easy to keep it all in and pretend that life can go on as normal. The hard thing is admitting that you need help. That’s how it was for me at first.”

Another scoff. This time the guy in the back was rolling his eyes. James cleared his throat and continued on.

“All of my life I wanted to be a soldier. It was the only thing I ever truly wanted, and when I got older, I realized that it was the only thing I was ever really good at. I served for seven years before I lost my arm to an RPG…One minute our convoy was going down a road that had been cleared, and the next minute, I’m waking up in a hospital with a doctor telling me that they weren’t able to save my arm. The next thing I knew, I’m being sent home with a pat on the back, a ‘thank you for your service’ and no sense of purpose in my life.” He paused and swallowed.

“I’m not the only person to lose something in a war. Some of you, like me, left physical pieces of yourself behind when you came back.” He looked to Sam. “Others left friends. Others left pieces of yourself that you think you can’t get back… But the biggest problem we all face isn’t what we left behind; it’s what we brought back with us. Guilt, regret, the memories…We’re all here because we brought something back with us.

“When I was a child, my dad and uncle fought in the Gulf War. For the longest time, I didn’t understand that he brought something back with him… I used to think he was weak for never wanting to tell me about his war stories, or because he had to pour his heart out to a group of strangers every week in order to function in the real world. For a long time I didn’t understand. It wasn’t until I came back that I finally did. I finally understood why he would have days where he didn’t want to come out of his room; why there were days where the simplest thing could set him off; why he looked like a man carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders… It wasn’t until I started coming to these meetings myself that I realized that my dad wasn’t weak. Going to therapy is probably what saved his life, and if I’m being honest, it is probably saving my life as well.”

James looked around the room. Some of the people were nodding along with what he was saying. Some were still staring at their shoes. The guy in the back was finally looking at him.

“Coming back without my arm and with my regret, I wasn’t sure what I wanted with my life. I wasn’t even sure if I actually wanted it anymore. All I had ever wanted was to be a marine, so when I wasn’t anymore, I didn’t know what else there was for me,” he said, swallowing down a lump in his throat. “But I was lucky. I had good people in my life—good friends—who wouldn’t let me stay lost. They’re the ones who made start coming here… It didn’t take away what I brought back with me, but it did help me carry the weight of it all. I…I started to function again and see that there was a life outside of the Corps. With the help of my friends and the help of this group, I was able to get back on my feet… I’ve got a job now, doing something that I enjoy. I’ve got someone that I love and who loves me.

“My life isn’t perfect, but it’s by far better than it was four years ago when I got back… I understand that not everyone has a good and understanding support group. For those of you who don’t, just know that this group is here for you. It is not a weakness to admit that you need help, there is no shame in it. You don’t have to keep it all inside. It is ok to let people in and let others try to help. That’s what people like Sam and myself are here for… When you can’t run, you crawl. And when you can’t crawl, you find someone to carry you.”

A small laugh from the guy in the back. This time not mocking, though. 

“Did you just steal a line from _Firefly_?” The guy asked.

James smiled, “Yes, but that doesn’t mean it’s not true. It’s a long road to recovery, one that can’t be finished right away. So if you find yourself stumbling down that road and you can’t run or crawl anymore, find someone to carry you. A family member, a friend, a partner, or someone from this group, it doesn’t matter. Just know that we’ll be there to carry you.”

James decided to end it there, nodding to Sam that he was done. Sam nodded back and the others began to clap for him. When James got back to his seat, he noticed that the guy in the back had unfolded himself and was now listening to what others had to say. He didn’t know if what he said made any difference, but he hoped that at least one person would be willing to come back to the group next week. 

 

Group ended after two hours, giving everyone enough time to share their stories. Afterwards, the guy in the back—Jason, his name was—spoke with him in private. He’d thanked him for speaking that day and said that he would try to make it back for the next week. James gave him his cell phone number just in case he needed to talk. 

After group, he and Sam decided to have a late lunch. They ended up going to a café near the waterfront just after the lunch rush had cleared out. It was nice, James liked the privacy and it was close to his apartment. He thought about bringing Loki there the next time he could convince his partner to stay at his place. Or if he could ever convince him to move in.

“You did well today,” Sam said after they’d ordered. 

“Thanks,” he said. “Sorry I didn’t have anything prepared, but I’ve been a bit distracted lately.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he laughed. “Your boy keeping you up all night again. You know I’m going to tell him that you keep blaming him every time you get lazy, right?”

James smiled, but didn’t laugh. “It’s not that.”

“Everything ok?”

“I’m not really sure,” James said, letting out a heavy breath.

Sam noted the look of seriousness on his friend and started to become concerned. He leaned forward and calmly asked, “Are you having those kinds of days again?”

“No,” he shook his head. “No. God, I haven’t had days that bad in a long time. I meant what I said earlier. The group practically saved my life, and I have gotten a lot better… And that’s kind of the problem.”

“What is exactly?”

“It’s Loki,” he said. “I asked him to move in again.”

“Ah,” Sam sat back and nodded his head. “What did he say this time?”

“Nothing. He didn’t shoot it down this time, but he didn’t want to talk about it either.”

“Well, you can’t put him on the spot and expect him to be ready for a heart-to-heart.”

“I didn’t put him on the spot,” he argued. “We’ve been dancing around this for over a year now. Every time I bring it up he tries to avoid the subject.”

“Well, Buck, as much as I hate it for you, that might be your answer there.”

Leave it to Sam to be brutally honest, he thought. That’s what he liked about him, though. Sam didn’t bullshit anyone. James sighed and rested his chin on his hand.

“I just want him to talk to me about it,” he said. “If his answer is no, I can live with that. I’m thirty-two, I can handle a little rejection. I just want him to stop running from the conversation and just give me a definite answer.”

“Have you told him that yet?”

“I try to,” he shrugged. “It’s weird, though. Every time I want to bring the subject up he just…I don’t know, he looks scared or something.”

“Can you blame him? He’s still in his twenties, probably not ready to think that far ahead in his life—”

“He was married before.”

“Oh,” Sam’s eyes went wide. “Ah… Well, that raises a different kind of problem. Does he talk to you about it?”

“Not too much,” he answered. “Just that he was young and that it didn’t last long. He doesn’t like bringing it up and I don’t like pushing him.”

“Might be why he doesn’t want to move in again. Afraid of commitment?”

“We’ve been dating two years.”

“Yeah, but just dating. You guys have a relationship, but should it end tomorrow—God forbid—all you would have to do is return each other’s crap and then go your separate ways. If you move in together, the stakes become higher. Should something go wrong—”

“God forbid,” he interrupted.

“God forbid,” Sam repeated, “then it won’t be so easy to just walk away. Since he was married before, he probably knows all of this and maybe is afraid of getting hurt again.”

“I wouldn’t hurt him,” he said.

“You don’t know that. I know you wouldn’t ever intentionally hurt him, but you never know what’s going to happen in the future. Today you love each other, tomorrow you might not be able to stand the sight of each other.”

“I really don’t like this hypothetical version of me,” he sighed. “I would never hurt Loki. For fuck’s sake, I love him. He’s the best thing to happen to me since…since, fuck, I don’t know when.”

“What exactly do you want, Bucky?” Sam asked. “If you do talk about it and he says no, is that going to be it for you guys?”

“What?” He said, giving Sam a look as if he were crazy. “No. Jesus… Look, being in the group, it’s gotten me to look forward to what’s next in my life. I make a decent living from the benefits and from teaching, but I want to take the next step. I’m not exactly sure what the next step is, but I know that I want Loki there.”

“I get it. Move in, start thinking about the long-term. Maybe kids someday?”

“I don’t know about that,” he laughed. “I’m not thinking that far down the line. Hell, I don’t even know if I want kids or if he ever does. I just want him. All of himself that he has to offer.”

“And you tried telling him all of this?”

“I have,” he nodded. “Well, I’ve tried anyway. He never really lets me get too far. Tell me how it’s done, Sam. I mean, how did you get Riley to move in?”

As soon as the words left his mouth, James realized just exactly what he’d said. His eyes went wide from the shock of his own stupidity, while across from him Sam’s smile slowly faded and his eyes dropped away from him.

“Shit, Sam. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—”

“It’s ok, Bucky.”

“No it’s not,” he said. James took a deep breath and rubbed his face down his hand. “Jesus, I’ve really got to stop and think before I say anything.”

“Bucky, stop,” Sam said, waving his hand in a dismissive manner. “It’s alright… It’s been six years. I can talk about it. With Riley it didn’t really take much convincing. We went through basic together, we were stationed together, so when we came back from tour together, it just seemed to make sense.”

“Did it change anything between you guys? For the relationship, I mean?”

“Hell yeah it changes things,” he laughed. “You have to learn to live with the other person’s weird habits. I mean, for the first few weeks, Riley tried to keep everything neat and organized, but after a while he got sick of it to the point where we’d have three days’ worth of dishes piled in the sink and the only way to clean the sheets was to burn them… But it’s not all bad. You learn to be more comfortable around them.

“It’s like, beforehand, the thing you looked forward most to was getting them home and getting between the sheets. But after, something changes. Like, the best thing was coming home—maybe dinner was ready, but if it wasn’t it didn’t matter—and you two sit on the couch, comfortable and just watch your favorite shows. Then at night, you just lay there together, just holding each other and… I don’t know. You just know that there’s nowhere else you want to be and no one else you want to be with.”

Sam got a faraway look in his eyes and James smiled. “Yeah, I know that feeling.”

He had that feeling every night he and Loki were together. Every time he’d held that warm body close to his own, every time he’d comforted him through a thunderstorm, and every time he woke up to the person he loved curled to his side. Was it so wrong or selfish of him to want that feeling every day?

“Look,” Sam sighed, “I can’t tell you what would work for you. My best advice is to lay it all out on the table for Loki. Pour your heart out, tell him how you feel and see where he wants to go from there. Like you said, if he says no, then nothing changes. If he says yes…”

“If he says yes,” James nodded and trailed off.

“You really love him, don’t you, Buck?”

“Yeah,” James nodded. “I really do… Didn’t expect that to happen,” he laughed.

“That’s the fun thing about love, man. No one ever really expects it. It just kind of happens.”

James smiled at his friend and reached his arm over to pat Sam’s. With the right move of the muscles in his arm, the metal joints of his bionic hand whirled and lightly squeezed Sam’s arm. Sam smiled and patted the hand. 

“Thanks, Sam.”

“Don’t mention it.”

“Have…have you ever thought about…getting back out there?”

“I don’t know,” he sighed. “I know it’s been a long time, but…I still feel him every time I walk through the door. Still smell him in the sheets… A part of me wants to move on, but I don’t think I’d know what to do if I went home one day and he just wasn’t there anymore. It’s not an easy thing, losing the love of your life.”

James could believe that. He had already lost so much in his life. He just hoped that he’d never have to lose Loki as well.

***

By the time Loki walked out of his office, he was ready to murder someone. All day long, Coulson had shot down some of his potential tag lines for some of the products on the Stark account, while that kiss ass Grant Ward had practically been standing over his shoulder, making little “hmm” noises to himself. Melinda was no help at all, as she had been tasked with her own accounts for the Blue Sun Corp. Then, to make matters worse, Coulson’s assistant Skye had drank the last of the regular coffee! Not that that was really relevant, but the woman was already too bubbly for Loki’s nerves. The last thing she needed was a caffeine boost.

Truly, Loki had been ready to murder them all, burn the office to cinder and dance in the ashes. He had to remind himself, though, that tonight was Chinese food night. There would be no sesame chicken or pork dumplings if he went to prison. There was also the possibility of cuddling on the couch with James tonight—which there would also not be in prison—provided that his boyfriend could avoid any awkward situations. By that of course, he meant any serious talks or potential fights that would be attached to them. He’s had a hell of a day. All he wanted was to go home, put on sweatpants, gorge himself on his Chinese food, and fall asleep next to a man kind enough to carry him to bed when he fell into a food coma.

There was a light rain coming down as Loki walked out of the building. The storm from the night before was passing, but part of it still remained. Loki just hoped that it wouldn’t grow into another thunderstorm. He opened his umbrella and began to walk in the direction of his car, parked just down the road from the entrance of the office. There was a block of parking spaces there, reserved for the people who worked in the building. In the early days of the company, it had been every man for himself to get a spot, while the rest who drove would be forced to leave their car at the paid parking deck three blocks down. It was the source of much tension through the office until Melinda came up with the brilliant idea for a rotation. The people assigned to bring in coffee and bagels in the morning for the week got the spots, while everyone else toughed it out and waited their turn. The parking space was the only reason agreed to the arrangement, otherwise the people in his office could piss off… Loki wasn’t very popular with his co-workers.

There weren’t too many people walking about. Most that were there were seeking shelter from the rain, while a few were trying to hail cabs. Loki paid them no mind as he passed by, fishing the keys out of his jacket pocket. He was maybe ten feet from his car when he heard it.

“Loki!?”

Loki stopped walking and turned, thinking that one of his co-workers was calling to him, but he didn’t recognize anyone behind him. He furrowed his brow and turned to go back to his car when he heard it again.

“Loki! Hey, Loki!”

He turned abruptly again, but still, he couldn’t recognize anyone behind him. The few people that were on the sidewalk were either busy trying to hail down cabs. No one behind him was even paying attention to him. If this was Grant’s idea of a joke…

“Loki!”

By this time, Loki had reached his car, but was looking around everywhere to see where that voice was coming from. He unlocked the door and put his hand on the latch when that voice shouted one last time. This time, Loki looked across the street and his heart froze in place. 

Across the street, smiling and waving like a maniac, was a man that Loki had not seen in years. Not since before the divorce. Everything about him looked the same, though. Same styled blond hair, same perfectly shaved goatee, and same dashing smile. It was only when the man moved to come across the street towards him that panic set in for Loki. As soon as he was trying to weave his way through two parked cars, Loki had opened his door and jumped inside. He started the car and pulled out of his spot so fast that he heard his tires squalling. He spared a glance to his rear-view mirror only to see the man standing in the middle of the street, looking on as his car sped away.

***

Fandral Dash stood in the middle of the street, rain soaking through his think jacket as he watched the beat-up Prius speed down the road like a bat out of hell. Well, that wasn’t the reaction he had been expecting. Loki had always been shy when they were younger, but the last time he saw him he had been a haughty asshole who wasn’t afraid to speak his mind, especially when it came to what he thought about his husband and his friends. It didn’t make sense that Loki—had it been Loki? He could have sworn it was—would suddenly just run from him.

A honk from a cab coming down the road shook Fandral out of his shock. Fandral jumped back out of the street, listening to the cab driver’s slew of curses as he dug his phone out of his pocket. He ran under the awning of a nearby building and began searching through his contacts. Once he found the number he was looking for, Fandral quickly typed out a message. 

_“You’re never going to guess who I just saw.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not much going on in this one, sorry. I'll try to make it more exciting next time. Until then, I'll be working on some more _Glorious Purpose_ as well. Hope you enjoy it. :)


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For anyone who's still reading this! Sorry for the delay. I'll get back to writing more of _Glorious Purpose_ soon, but I did want to get more of this out. So hopefully you'll enjoy. 
> 
> And for those who were curious about the main pairing, at the moment, Loki/Bucky are the established couple, while there is past Loki/Thor. Later, however, this may change as we get into triangle territory.

The last employee of the night had just left the office when Thor got the text message on his phone. He was still sitting at his desk, eyes burning under the florescent lights and fingers trying to rub the headache out of his temple as he reviewed the Hammer account for what seemed like the hundredth time that evening. Honestly, their CEO’s finances were a complete mess. If Thor couldn’t pull off some kind of miracle, then they were going to be audited so hard that Justin Hammer’s great-great grandchildren were going to be born with their finances in the red. Thor was almost happy for the distraction of his cell phone chirping on his desk.

Thor leaned back in his chair and squeezed his eyes shut tightly for a moment to take out the sting. When he opened them again, there were black spots in his vision. He kept blinking until they went away, but sadly his headache remained. When he looked at his phone, he saw the face of his old friend on the screen and a note saying that he had a text message. Thor considered looking at it for a moment, but decided against it and put the phone away. Deciding to take a break for the sake of his sanity, Thor got up from his desk—hissing as his knees popped—left his office, and made his way to the empty break room at the end of the hall to see if there was any coffee left. 

He probably should have answered Fandral, but Thor just wasn’t in the mood at the moment. Ever since moving into the city two months before, his old friend had been pestering him to come out with him for a night of bar hopping—and hopefully bed hopping—so that the former Warriors may drink and relive their glory days. Each time, Thor has had to politely decline the invitations. He’d learned to stop feeling bad about it, though. As fun as Fandral was, he never truly left his high school, alpha male headspace. He was the kind of guy who would drink until three in the morning, be at work by eight, and dip his stick into anything that moved. If it made him happy, then that was his prerogative, but Thor just seemed to be past that point in his life by now. Only thirty, but he already felt like a middle-aged man.

A lot changed for Thor in the four years after his husband left him. The first, and probably most suspicious change was that almost immediately following his divorce, his father had promoted him from low-level clerk to department manager at one of their smaller firms. He’d come up with the excuse that Thor would need the extra income now that he was newly single, and he expected Loki to sue for alimony… His father never liked Loki, always thought that he was beneath Thor. He had resented Thor for marrying him when they were so young, so when the divorce was settled, he was more than willing to bring his son back into the fold. Thor loved his father, but the old man could be such a prick.

Thor had spent the next four years of his life pouring himself into his work and making a name for himself so that he could crawl out from the shadow of his father. It was easy for him. With no husband—no baby—there was nothing to distract Thor from his work. With no one to come home to at night, it made it easier to stay in the office until midnight. With no responsibilities or anyone who needed him, Thor lost himself in his work. He did anything really to keep his mind busy. It was lonely at times, but his hard work eventually paid off. He’d manage to bring in more high level clients to his father’s consulting firm, double the company’s revenue and, eventually, his father deemed him fit to be the head of the new expansion office in New York.

That was another change that Thor didn’t see coming in his life. Aside from his few years at college, Thor had spent his entire life in his small hometown. He’d had the same doctor since he was a child, all of the shop owners knew his name, and when he waved to someone on the street, they would smile and wave back. Every summer there was a neighborhood block party, and every winter, the local volunteers would gather together and go caroling to the elderly. It was a nice place. The kind of place that people picture settling down and raising their families. 

Thor thought at one point that he would grow old in that town…but now there was nothing left for him there. Friends had grown and moved on, and his one-bedroom apartment seemed to grow lonelier every day. It was easy to accept his father’s offer to take over the New York office, but he didn’t expect the city to be even lonelier. He’d hoped that the move would bring about a better change for his life, perhaps help him to move on from the past, but some things just didn’t want to be left behind. Photographs, letters, old memories, and things that didn’t want to be forgotten.

Thor took a sip from his coffee mug, ignoring the taste of the stale drink, and raised his hand to his chest, feeling the chain hanging from his neck and hidden beneath his shirt.

“Working late again, boss?”

The sudden voice made Thor jump, spilling coffee on his shirt in the process. “Shit!”

Looking over, he saw that he was wrong about being alone in the office. The small, buxom intern was currently watching him with an expression caught between shock and amusement.

“I am so sorry,” she said.

She reached over onto the counter top, grabbed the paper towels and handed the roll off to Thor. He mumbled out a thank you and wiped furiously at the stain on his shirt.”

“I am so sorry,” she apologized again. “I didn’t mean to sneak up on you.”

“What are you even still doing here, Ms…” Shit, he thought. He forgot her name already. To be fair, she had only been interning for about a month, but Thor liked to make it a point to get to know everyone who was working under him. He hadn’t gotten the chance to do that much here.

“Lewis,” she supplied. “Darcy Lewis… I intern here, remember? Don’t worry, I’m not some crazy lady who broke in. Although why anyone would break into a financial consultant’s office is beyond me.”

“You’d be surprised,” Thor answered. “And I know who you are. Sorry, it’s just been a long night. What are you doing here?”

“The usual,” she huffed. “Making copies, answering emails, and making sure that everything is filed properly for the Valkyrie account.”

“The Valkyrie?” Thor asked. “Isn’t that Gil Hodge’s account? Why the hell isn’t he doing it?”

She made a face and shrugged. “Don’t know. He just handed it off to me and told me to do it.”

“For God’s sake, the man has a secretary.”

“That’s what I thought too, but she said it wasn’t her job.”

“Well it’s not yours either, so you shouldn’t have to be here this late. Hell, we don’t even pay interns overtime. What the hell was he thinking?”

“Seeing how he left with his hand on Natalie’s ass, I have an idea, but you’re probably not going to like it.”

“Of course. I’ll have to have a talk with him about that.” Thor nodded and let out a frustrated laugh. “You should probably head home, then. It’s getting late.”

“It’s only ten o’clock, Mr. Odinson. That’s not too late. Hey, by this time I’m usually just getting started on Tumblr. And my Netflix queue is so backed up since I started here.”

“Well, wouldn’t want to keep you then.”

“How about you? What are you doing here so late?”

“I’m the boss, I’m always here late.”

“Yikes. I thought the perk of being in charge was coming in just for show and having all of your underlings do the work for you.”

“That would be nice, but sadly life doesn’t work like an 80’s corporation movie.”

“Shame. I was looking forward to all of the Quaaludes and blow.”

“I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that.”

“Pretend all you want, but it happened,” she said with a nonchalant shrug. Thor couldn’t help but laugh.

“Go home, Ms. Lewis.”

“Seriously, though, shouldn’t you be going home too? Wouldn’t want to keep the Mrs. waiting.”

“Well, there’s no need to worry about that, seeing as there is no Mrs.”

“Mr., then? Girlfriend? Boyfriend? Cat?”

“None of the above.”

“Really?” She said in genuine surprise. “But you’re so…” She waved her hand up and down in his direction.”

“So…what?” He asked, raising his brows and waiting for her to finish.

“So…something I can’t say without the possibility of risking a sexual harassment complaint.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” he smiled. 

“As well you should,” she nodded. “So no one at all, huh? Sounds lonely.”

She had no idea, he thought.

“I’m married to the job.”

“Such a boss response.”

“Because I am the boss,” he replied. “Now come on, Ms. Lewis. I’ll walk you to your car.”

“Alright,” she gave in. “But please just call me Darcy.”

“Only when we’re outside of work.”

“Like I’m ever going to see you outside of work,” she scoffed. “I don’t think I’ve ever even seen you leave this building.”

“Like I said, I’m married to the job. She doesn’t like it when I’m away for too long.”

“If only I could find someone to give me that kind of commitment.”

They both shared a bemused smile before turning to leave the break room. Thor waited until she got her coat, purse and car keys before leading her out the door to the private parking deck. He locked the doors to the office behind them just as a precaution, then turned back to her and escorted her to her car on the lower level.

“How do you like it with us so far?”

“It’s not bad here,” she shrugged. 

“I was expecting it to be a bit more like _The Office_. You know, with wacky little hijinks going on and a wacky boss who just wants to be everyone’s friend.”

“You watch a little too much TV.”

“People always bash on the shows, but if I head buried in a novel all the time, people would call me an intellectual.”

“Yes, it is a terrible double standard.”

“So what are your plans for tonight, Mr. Odinson?”

“Nothing very exciting, I’m afraid. I need to clean up the mess of the Hammer finances.”

“Doesn’t that have like, two more months before he’s up for audit? What’s the rush to finish it? You should take the night and get a drink. Go to a bar, pick up some hottie and see where the night takes you.”

“…Have you been talking to my friend?”

“No, but they sound like they agree with me. Just a suggestion, though. You could at least go home and watch a movie. Try to relax for once.”

“Why does nobody think that I relax?”

“Do you?” 

“Yes, I do. I read occasionally. I go running when I can. I take long, hot showers.”

“Ugh, you sound like my friend Jane. She’s working on her Ph.D. and the only break she takes from work is to either get coffee or sleep.” Darcy stopped talking for a moment as her eyes suddenly got wide, as if she were struck with an idea. Thor had an idea where she was about to go with this.

“You know—”

“No,” Thor cut her off.

“But she’s really cute and brilliant, and you two would—”

“No, Ms. Lewis.”

“We’re outside of work now.”

“Still technically in the building.”

“Come on,” she said. “I think you two would really hit it off. She’s really nice and passionate about what she does.”

“As am I. Which is why I’m not looking for any distractions right now.”

“I wouldn’t call forming a personal connection with another human being a distraction. More like basic human nature. But that’s just me.”

“Yes, and I believe that is your car there.” 

Thor pointed over to the beat-up looking Jetta parked alone in the lower deck. He watched with amusement as Darcy fished her keys out of her purse and pushed the button on the automatic locks. The lights lit up and the car beeped with the sound of the alarm. 

“Yep, it’s mine.”

Thor laughed as he escorted her the rest of the way, opening her car door for her once they reached it.

“Such a gentleman,” Darcy said. “Jane is going to love you.”

“That’s nice, but it’s not going to happen.”

“Just think about it,” she said, slipping into her car. “I’ll give her your card. You two can meet for coffee, maybe get married in a few years, pop out a couple of kids—”

Thor shut the door on her. “Goodnight, Ms. Lewis.”

As he turned to walk back to the office, he heard the sound of her window being rolled down. 

“Thanks for walking me to my car, Mr. Odinson.”

He turned and waved her goodbye.

“Try to get some sleep, boss! Don’t be stuck here all night.”

He watched as she started her engine, backed out, and slowly left the parking deck. Once she was gone from sight, Thor let out a tired laugh and turned to go back inside. 

Despite what she, Fandral, and his own mother believe, Thor did date. It wasn’t often, but once in a while, the loneliness would become a little too much and he would seek out some kind of companionship. The only problem with that, though, was that Thor had never had the moments in his teens or early twenties where all that mattered was going out and spreading his seed. He’d been in love with the same person since he was seven years old, so it was hard to try to go out and find some kind of connection again. Especially when all most people his age cared about was living their life in the moment, rather thinking about what they wanted down the line. That kind of lifestyle led to many awkward conversations over dinners and drinks, and a few one-night stands here and there. Thor, for the most part, had outgrown it before it ever really began. 

In the past four years, there were maybe three relationships that Thor would consider significant.

The first was Amora Incantare. Thor had met her at a bar that Volstaag had dragged him to, shortly after his divorce. She was a beautiful woman—young and fresh out of college—with wavy blonde hair, poison green eyes, and a body to kill for. She was basically the type of girl that Thor should have been chasing throughout his high school career; the beautiful blonde bombshell draped on the arm of the school’s best pitcher. 

She had seemed nice at first. Brilliant when she spoke about her passions and charming when striking a conversation. She was also very bold, as she was the one to invite Thor to dinner later that week, with the unspoken promise of much more. What began with Thor attempting to dip his toes back in the water led to a six-week long relationship…Well, Thor couldn’t really call it a relationship.

As charming as Amora had seemed at first, she was actually twice as crazy. The first night after they slept together, she somehow came under the impression that she and Thor were soul mates. She called and texted him at all hours of the day, sent him inappropriate pictures and go into a rage when he wouldn’t respond. She would show up at his house at odd hours—often drunk—and demand to see him. She called his friends, she threatened him, and she would scream at any other woman who looked his way. 

Thor did all he could to get rid of her, but she would never back down. Until the day that Thor caught her trying to get rid of a couple of the old boxes that he kept stuffed at the back of his closet. The one filled with photo albums and unworn pink and purple clothes. Thor was raised to never lay a hand on a woman, but when he caught her holding that box and screaming that she was going to light it on fire, Thor saw red. He threw her against the wall, wrapped his hands around her throat and told her that if he ever saw her again, he would kill her. He never did, thankfully, but the whole incident scared him off of dating for a year.

When he did try again, it was with a medical student named Donald Blake, that his mother set him up with. Donald was a good man—a refreshing change from Amora. He was a final year medical student, beginning his internship soon under the state’s best oncologist. He had been rather handsome as well. Dirty blonde hair, dark blue eyes, a strong pointed jaw that always seemed to hold a five o’clock shadow, and one of the nicest smiles that Thor had ever seen.

He and Thor dated on and off for a couple of months. They had fun together, the sex was good, and they got along well enough. Unfortunately, with Thor gaining more ground in his father’s company and Donald so focused on his medical career, they didn’t have much time to focus on putting as much effort into the relationship as either of them would have liked. They parted on amicable terms, with the promise to remain friends. Neither of them really had time to keep that promise, though.

The last, and probably most significant, would be the almost year long relationship he had before moving to New York. The one he had with his childhood friend, Sif. 

That one had been a surprise to both of them really. It began on a night when she brought him over a home-cooked dinner, as he was pretty much hopeless in the kitchen himself. She often liked to check in on him like that, to make sure that he was still functioning—the divorce and everything beforehand had been really hard on Thor. She brought him roasted chicken with a slice of blueberry cheesecake for desert, and the two spent most of the night talking and sipping on the beers that he had in the back of the fridge. The alcohol made her brave enough to admit her childhood crush on him, and it made him dumb enough to admit that he would be lying if he never thought about it. Of course it didn’t go any further than that on that night, but it did open up a possibility. They talked about it for weeks before deciding to try it out. 

Things had been awkward with them at first. They had been friend most of their lives and they trusted each other with everything, but they weren’t sure how to interact as a couple. Did they still act as they were? Do they hold hands and kiss more? Do they talk about how awkward it felt? Eventually, they settled in to a comfortable relationship. It was nice, not exactly like they were dating, but more like friends with added benefits of sex, cuddles, and dates. Sif had been good to him, she had been good for him, and he thought that perhaps, _maybe_ , he could possibly make it work with her.

He didn’t know exactly what happened—maybe the idea that he was moving on with his life—but somewhere before they reached their one year anniversary mark, Thor began to distance himself from the relationship. He wasn’t aware that he was doing it, but there were nights when he seemed disinterested in her, nights when he was inattentive to her needs. She called him out on it, of course, and he would always apologize with the promise that he would improve, but he always seemed to fall back into the rhythm. 

Things came to an end on the day when she found him staring fondly at the photo album hidden in the box in the back of his closet. He hadn’t even noticed her there as his fingers traced over the glossy photo of his ex—so beautiful with his smile lighting up his features, and his hands proudly placed on his slight baby-bump—but she made her presence known when Thor felt a tear welling up in the corner of his eye. They had a long talk that night.

Surprisingly, she wasn’t mad at him. She was very calm and understanding about the whole thing. She explained her position; that she cared for Thor more deeply than anyone; she thought that perhaps that they could one day have a future together. She said that she was very happy with Thor, but she didn’t want to spend the rest of her life as a replacement for someone else. She wanted to know if Thor loved her, if he could see a future with her as well.

Of course Thor loved her. She was one of the best friends he’d ever had, his confidant, and the person who had made him so happy in the past year…but he didn’t love her the way she wanted. She asked if he could see a future with her, and he answered honestly that he couldn’t. 

She was disappointed and sad, but she wasn’t angry. She kissed him on the cheek, collected her things, and left that night. Like Donald before, she promised that they could stay friends. Thor was happy that she at least kept that promise. 

Sif had been his last real try at forming a relationship, and if it taught him anything, it was that he had been going through the motions after the divorce. Try as he might to say that he was moving on with his life, he knew that there was a large part of him that would always be stuck in the past. Stuck in that place where he had been the happiest in his life. Everything else he did now—every failed relationship, every one night stand, every awkward blind date that he agreed to be set up on—was all an attempt to recapture the past and replace what he had lost. 

Maybe there would come a day when he could finally leave it all behind, but it was not this day. 

So Thor continued to do what he always did in the midst of his loneliness; he distracted himself. He went back into the dark, empty building, closed the door to his office and sat back down at his desk to look over his workload. The message in his phone was forgotten as he scanned his paperwork again, and the rest of the world went away.

Absently, his hands reached up and felt for the chain hidden beneath his shirt. As Thor groaned over the mess of Hammer’s R&D finances, his fingers ran carefully over the tarnished silver-painted Cracker Jacks ring that hung from the chain. The ring of Barahir—the ring he had given to Loki, his Arwen, beneath the moonlight on their own hill of Cerin Amroth—hung next to his heart, the way he knew it always would.

***

Loki was upset. He wouldn’t say it in so many words, but James could see the uneasiness coming off of his boyfriend in waves. For the past two days, Loki had been quiet, distracted, and wearing a blank expression. Now, anyone who knew Loki would just assume that this was his natural state, but James prided himself on the talent of being able to read Loki’s moods. Yes, his boyfriend was typically quiet and seemingly distracted, but when they were behind closed doors, he could always get Loki into a more relaxed state where he would open up and smile more. For the past two days, all that James had managed to coax out of him was a few forced smiles and the response that everything was “fine” whenever he asked what was wrong.

James had been hoping that whatever was wrong was most likely a work thing—though Loki usually liked to talk about those problems to anyone who would listen—that would disappear on the beginning of the weekend. But on Friday night, the nights he usually spent at James’ apartment, Loki called and claimed that he wasn’t feeling well. That had James nervous. For almost a year and a half, Loki had never gone a Friday night without sleeping over. So James had done what any good boyfriend would do; he braved the weekend traffic through the city, picked up Loki’s favorite Chinese food, grabbed his two favorite 80’s movies— _Labyrinth_ and _The Lost Boys_ —and showed up at his doorstep with a smile and a bowl of warm egg drop soup. 

His smile faltered and his concern only grew, though, when Loki didn’t looked pleased to see him. If anything, he looked like his eyes were tinged red. 

Now Loki was sitting on the couch, his soup gone cold and pork dumplings untouched, staring off into space as the opening of _The Lost Boys_ played on the screen before him. Now James was scared. There was nothing in this world that made Loki happier than Chinese food, and this was the second night this week that he had barely touched it. 

James didn’t like to push people. He knew his boundaries, and he knew that if you forced a person’s hand, the reaction that you get often wouldn’t be the one you wanted. He also knew that Loki was one of those people who, if you backed them into a corner, they would come out fighting like a wild animal. The problem was, though, that this wasn’t normal for them. Yes, they had their fights like any other couple, but Loki had always had a zero tolerance policy for bullshit. If James had pissed him off then he would say something. It wasn’t like him to not say anything at all. He wouldn’t just shut himself off completely for no reason. 

Although, there might be a reason. As much as he didn’t want to admit it to himself, James knew that he could be the reason for their current situation. After all, this all started the day he had asked Loki to move in again. Had he asked one too many times?

Trying to push that thought from his mind, James put his plate down on the coffee table, leaned back on the couch, and scooted closer to Loki. When they were touching, James forced a smile and put his arm around Loki’s shoulder so that he could rest his head on his chest in their preferred movie-watching position. His fears were confirmed, though, when Loki shrugged his arm off his shoulders and scooted to the edge of the couch. 

James may not like to push people, but he hated the damage of shutting people out more. As scared as he was that he was the source of the problem, he knew it needed to be addressed before it got any worse. So he picked up the remote and paused the movie just as the vampire David and his gang began harassing the teen couple on the carousel. That at least caught Loki’s attention, as he actually looked at James, giving him a questioning look.

“What’s wrong?” Loki asked. 

“You tell me.”

“What are you talking about, James?” Loki sighed, rubbing his temple with his fingers.

“You’ve been like this for the past two days, baby. What’s wrong?”

“It’s nothing.”

“Don’t say that. You won’t talk to me and you won’t even touch your food.”

“I told you before that I wasn’t feeling well.”

James took a deep breath, making sure that he could keep his breathing even. “Please don’t lie to me, Loki.”

“I’m not lying.”

“I’ve seen you when you’re sick, Loki. This isn’t one of those times. Please, just tell me what’s wrong.”

“For God’s sake,” Loki groaned and rolled his eyes. 

He got up from the couch and walked towards the kitchen. James followed after him. He stood silently behind Loki as he reached into the fridge and pulled out a bottle of beer. Over his shoulder, James saw that there were two six packs in the fridge, one full and the other with only two left. They hadn’t been there when James left Loki’s apartment that morning. He didn’t drink often and Loki was more of a social drinker, never one to do it at home much. There was no denying that something was wrong now. 

“Talk to me.”

“I am talking to you. You’re not listening. I told you that nothing is wrong.”

Loki popped the cap off his bottle and took two large gulps of the beer. James brows furrowed in a look of concern, to which Loki rolled his eyes again. 

“Don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like you’re judging me. I am really in no mood for it, James.”

“I’m not judging you. I’m worried. You’re not acting like yourself.”

“Oh and you would know all about how I fucking act,” Loki said with a sneer. “You fuck a person for two years and suddenly you’re a shrink? What, you bend me over so suddenly you think you know everything about me?”

“No, I don’t, because you won’t talk to me and tell me anything!” James snapped. He didn’t mean to do it, but he couldn’t help the bite in his voice. He took a deep breath and told himself to remain calm. He had to stay calm.

“I don’t have to share every damn thing with you, James. Yes, something is wrong. Are you happy now!?”

“…Is it about the other day? About me asking you to—”

“For fuck’s sake, not everything is about you! This has nothing to do with you or us, this is about me and my life.”

“…I thought that I was a part of your life?”

Loki’s dirty expression dropped at that. James thought that he looked guilty for a moment, but it quickly faded as his lover’s face transformed into that stoic, expressionless look that he knew all too well, that he had seen far too many times to count. He saw it so often in the beginning of their relationship, when they were first beginning to get really close, but Loki held himself back. James hadn’t seen that look in a long time, but he knew what it meant. Loki was throwing up his walls again. It went beyond just his simple avoidance of the topic of moving in together. This was the look telling James that Loki was trying to create a distance between them, one that he had been trying two years to close.

“You are a part of my life, James… You’re a part of my life now. Anything before that is not your concern.”

That was cold. His boyfriend may be a moody, temperamental ass sometimes, but even for him, that was just cold. The impact of it hit so hard that James couldn’t respond at first. He had to take a few moments to breathe deeply through his nostrils, his fist clenching at his side as he tried to keep his emotions in check. He had to look away from Loki, though. He couldn’t look at this person he loved right now and hear him say something so heartless, while he looked like it didn’t affect him at all. 

“Maybe you should just go home, James.”

James couldn’t form any words. He just shook his head. 

“I mean it, James. You need to leave.”

Again, James shook his head to say no. He couldn’t leave like this. If he did, this thing between them now would just grow and fester, and this part of Loki that he keeps at a distance would remain forever out of reach. 

“Just get the fuck out of my house!” Loki shouted. 

James had to look at him now, as his boyfriend threw his beer bottle at his head. It just missed him, crashing against the wall next to him. Loki had a manic look in his eyes that James had never seen before. Loki looked crazed, breathing through his mouth with his eyes shining red, welled with unshed tears. 

“Loki—”

“I said get out!”

“Just talk to me—”

“Out!”

“Damn it, Loki! Stop fucking running away from me!” James shouted. He didn’t mean to, but the breathing exercises Sam taught him could only do so much to keep him calm.

He wished he hadn’t said anything, though, when Loki stepped back, looking as though he had been struck. He looked away from James, mouth open and gasping for air. Tears slid from the corner of his eyes down his cheeks. The sight of it pained James enough that he had to take a step forward to try to reach out to Loki. He didn’t want to see him hurting. He never wanted to cause him any pain. 

As soon as he stepped forward, though, Loki turned his head towards him and gave James the most hateful look he had ever seen on another person. He had only a second to brace himself as Loki came at him, fist clenched and ready to swing. Marine instinct helped him to block the attempted punch. He grabbed Loki’s arm with his right hand and wrapped his prosthetic arm around his waist to pull Loki against his chest. Loki struggled and snarled as James held him, trapping him with his arms. James had military training and strength, but Loki wasn’t exactly weak. All of his writhing and flailing in James’ arms caused the older man to weaken his hold, almost to the point where Loki slipped free, but at the last moment, his legs gave out, and they both fell to the floor. 

Loki tried again to slip out of James’ grasp, but the most he managed to do was turn himself around so that the two were facing each other now. James could see clearly how Loki’s eyes—so bright green in contrast to the red tinge—were practically burning with anger.

“Let me go!”

“Stop it!”

“You son of a bitch!” He seethed. 

“Calm down, Loki!”

“Let me go! Get the fuck off of me! You have no right!”

Though his screams were growing louder, the fight in him was starting to fade. He was squirming and panting heavily in James’ arms, but with James keeping such a tight hold, there was nowhere that he could go. The more he tried, the tighter that James held on until finally, Loki stilled in his arms. Well, not entirely stilled. His chest was heaving and his body was shaking like a lead in the wind. James adjusted his arms so that he was holding Loki with his prosthetic while his right hand moved under Loki’s shirt. His fingers ran soothingly up and down the small of Loki’s back, trying to soothe away the tremors. Loki’s skin felt hot beneath his touch.

“You have no right,” Loki said again. His voice was strained now, as if he were fighting back a sob.

James carefully adjusted their positions so that he was cradling Loki, his head resting against his left shoulder. From this new position, he could look down and see that Loki’s eyes were squeezed tightly shut, but that didn’t stop the tears from flowing. Loki kept trying to turn his face towards James chest, burying it so that his lover couldn’t see. It was breaking James’ heart. He’d never seen Loki looked so pained, and without knowing what caused it, he didn’t know how to make it better. His own eyes began to sting, his lower lip trembling as he tried his best to keep his composure. If Loki couldn’t be strong for himself right now, then he would have to be strong for him. 

He used his right hand to gently wipe away the tears from Loki’s cheeks. Loki couldn’t hold back the sob as his thumb caressed his skin. A tear slipped from James’ own eyes and he bent down to kiss Loki’s forehead.

“No right,” Loki’s mumbled voice said again. “No right.”

“It’s ok, baby,” he whispered, kissing Loki’s forehead again. “It’s ok.”

Loki mumbled something again that James couldn’t quite make out through his crying. He kept stroking his hair, trying to keep calm as Loki continued to mumble incoherent words. Occasionally he heard the words “no right” and “to be here.” James assumed that Loki was still talking about him and whatever he had done to make Loki so upset, but then he heard something that he wasn’t expecting.

“H-he has no right to be here,” Loki whispered.

“…What do you mean, baby?”

“He has no right to be here,” Loki said again. “No right!”

“Loki, who are you talking about? Who is he?”

“How far do I have to go to get away from _him_? I don’t want him here. He has no right to be here, not now. Not when I… Not when I finally…” Loki’s voice sounded so pitiful that it hurt to hear. “S…she’s gone… She’s gone.”

Loki kept repeating those words over and over, until finally he became too wracked with sobs to say anything at all. He cried and clenched his fists in James’ shirt so tightly that his knuckles turned white and his fingers grew stiff. James was just so confused. He didn’t know what Loki was talking about. He had no idea how to calm him down or comfort him in any way. Loki was so detached that it seemed that holding onto his shirt was the only thing keeping him grounded in this moment, though his mind was already so far away. James didn’t know what to do… so he did what any good boyfriend would do. He held Loki close, rocked him in his arms, and gently stroked his hair back, all the while whispering what he hoped were soothing words into his ear.

“It’s ok, baby. I’ve got you. It’s ok… I love you, Loki. I’ve got you, and I’m not going anywhere. It’s ok.”

He whispered it over and over again, until finally, Loki stilled in his arms and his tears ceased. The ones spilling from James’ eyes, however, did not.

***

The sunlight was just beginning to peak through his bedroom window when Loki first woke the next morning. His head was killing him and his vision was fuzzy. He had to blink a few times before he could make out the time on the clock. It was seven o’clock on the dot. Loki let out an unamused laugh at that. It figured. One of the few days that he was allowed to sleep in and he woke up early. Figured. Loki tried to roll over on his back, but there were two things that were stopping him.

The first was a sudden throb in his head that struck him like a lightning bolt and had him groaning quietly to himself. It wasn’t fair, he thought. He’d only drank three beers the night before, and he had never been a lightweight. His family was Norwegian, for God’s sake! Then again, he hadn’t drank heavily in over four years. His alcohol consumption in the recent years had been limited to one or two cocktails at social functions, or an occasional pint if the mood struck him. It be natural that his tolerance had weakened, but still, it felt shameful to be this affected. 

The second thing keeping him from rolling over onto his back was the solid body at his side and the weight of the arm over his waist. Loki looked over to see that James was still sleeping soundly, curled up next to Loki’s side the way he always was, so that he could hold him in his sleep. Though Loki had no recollection of going to be, he assumed from his lack of shirt and sweatpants that James had brought him to bed when he fell asleep the night before… Which made Loki groan again when he remembered exactly where it was that he fell asleep, and the events that led up to it.

He didn’t know what had gotten into him the night before, but it had been a breaking point for him that had been building up for the few days, ever since he saw Fandral outside of his office. The first night after he had seen him, Loki had been in such a state of shock that he couldn’t really comprehend anything. He had rushed home and remained aloof the whole evening, barely even touching his dinner. James hadn’t pressured him too much, just asking him if he was alright. He’d told him that he was fine, and James hadn’t pressed him for anything more. That was one thing that he loved about James, he knew when to drop a topic.

The next few days, Loki was terrified of going to work. When he pulled in to his spot, he would look around nervously, heart pounding in his chest before he got the nerve to get out of his car. After work was even worse. When it got close to the end of office hours Loki’s palms began to sweat and he couldn’t focus on anything. Whatever anyone said to him went in one ear and out the other. It got so bad that even Coulson asked if there was something wrong with him. Loki knew he must have been in bad shape if even his boss were concerned, because typically, Loki could walk through the door engulfed in flames and Coulson wouldn’t bat an eye. By the end of the day, Loki felt as if he was losing his mind. He was so relieved to have gotten to his car without seeing Fandral again, that when he went home, he finally tried to process what he was feeling. 

It’s rather amazing how quickly trying to process his feelings transformed into his attempt to drown them in cheap alcohol. And then, like the plot to some horrible Lifetime movie, emotions plus alcohol led to a fight between him and his too caring for his own good boyfriend. 

Loki couldn’t give a reasonable explanation of why he was acting this way. It wasn’t like he had actually spoken to Fandral. He hadn’t been put under the man’s judgmental gaze or been forced to listen—once more—about how much he had ruined the life of Fandral’s best friend. He wasn’t questioned about why he had run away and pretty much dropped off the face of the earth. Fandral didn’t badger him about why he hadn’t spoken to his own parents in so many years. Fandral hadn’t called him a worthless bastard who had run away when things got too hard. No… Fandral just called his name. Just seeing him, though, standing there in the street had Loki remembering all at once all of the pain—both that inflicted on him and the one he caused. So Loki did what he had done best, he ran away and tried to forget. 

James was beginning to stir. The arm around Loki’s waist was moving a little and he could feel the strands of James’ hair slide along his shoulder. Trying to forget about his headache, Loki carefully slid out of James’ arms and quietly went to the bathroom. He had gone in there with the intention of hiding in the bathroom until he could come up with some kind of excuse for his behavior the night before, but the moment he saw his reflection in the mirror he couldn’t think about anything else. 

His eyes were swollen from the violent sobs the night before. Red and puffy around the edges, with the top lid looking plump and dark circles in the bags of his eyes. The irises looked small inside the swollen skin, but his eyes were almost glowing due to the redness in his eyes. They stung like hell and were drying out too quickly. As he rooted through the medicine cabinet for the eye-drops, he felt a sting coming from his nose as well. A peak at the mirror showed him that the tip of his nose was red and crusty, chapped. He could only imagine the amount of nasty snot that must have dripped out while he was crying. God… this is why he didn’t like to deal with emotions. This is why he didn’t like anyone to see him when he was trying to deal with his emotions, because then they would see this… This ugly, broken little thing. 

The doorknob behind him began to turn, and Loki cursed to himself for forgetting to lock it. Before he could grab hold of it, the door began to open, and Loki came face-to-face with the sleepy grin of his boyfriend.

“Hey,” James said, his voice still raspy from sleep. “There you are.”

Loki turned away and brushed strands of his hair into his face so that James couldn’t see it in the mirror. 

“Where else would I be?”

“Honestly, I thought you would still be asleep. Usually nothing can get you up on a Saturday morning.”

James laughed a little and moved closer behind Loki, kissing his shoulder. When he tried to wrap his right arm around Loki’s stomach, though, Loki stepped out of the embrace.

“I think I’m going to take a shower.”

“You sure, baby? If you’re still tired you can come back to bed for a bit.”

“I’m fine, James… I just want to shower.”

“Ok,” James nodded and backed out of the bathroom, closing the door behind him. 

Once he was gone, Loki let out a deep breath and ran his fingers through his hair. He wasn’t ready to face James yet. Not while he looked like such a wreck. He didn’t want to have to face him at all if it were possible. Loki got into the shower and tried to shut his mind off. He ended up standing beneath the water, staring off into space, until it began to turn cold. Afterwards, he got out—relieved that a bit of the swelling around his eyes had gone down—and set about his morning routine, all while trying not to think. 

When he had dressed in his weekend sweatpants and loose fitting t-shirt, he went down stairs and was greeted with the smell of maple syrup. As he made his way to the kitchen, he saw that the mess of Chinese food and the broken beer bottle were nowhere in sight. Whether James had cleaned them up this morning or the night before was unclear to him, though. Seemed like a thing he would do, though. He didn’t like to leave evidence of a mess just lying around. 

He found James in the kitchen, putting the finishing touches on a stack of French toast, his favorite. When he saw Loki, he smiled and gestured to the kitchen table, where Loki’s plate and mug of coffee were already waiting for him. Loki nodded at him and mumbled a quick thank you before sitting down. He didn’t wait for James to sit before he began to dig into his food. He wasn’t really hungry right now, in fact he felt a little queasy, but he welcomed the distraction that the food offered. James sat down across from him, and the two enjoyed a quiet breakfast.

When it was done, Loki rinsed the dishes while James loaded the dishwasher. When it was done and everything was put away, James caught Loki in a loose hug and surprised the other man with a soft kiss. The gentleness of it made Loki smile just a fraction and kiss him back. When he pulled back, though, James wasn’t smiling. He had a serious look in his eyes, and Loki knew what was coming.

“Now that there’s nothing left to distract you, are we going to talk?”

“I wouldn’t say that there’s nothing,” Loki answered. “We still haven’t seen the Saturday morning cartoon line-up.”

“Loki,” he said. “Please.”

“…What do you want to talk about?”

“You scared the hell out of me last night, Lokes. I’ve never seen you act that way before.”

“It’s not something that I’m particularly proud of,” Loki said. He turned from James and moved to the living room, but his boyfriend was right on his heels.

“Do you want to tell me what that was last night?”

“Not particularly,” Loki answered. He sat down on the couch, pushed his hair back from his face and moved to grab the remote for the television. James was quicker, though, and snatched it up. He put it into the pocket of his jeans and looked back down at Loki.

“You know I have no problems whatsoever going in there,” Loki said, eyebrow raised. “Or was that the intention?”

“Please be serious.”

“I am,” Loki smiled. “It’s a Saturday morning. I’m well rested and fed, so there’s really only one other need to attend to.”

Loki gently parted his legs so that he was sitting with his knees spread. An open invitation that his boyfriend was usually never one to ignore. They both loved Saturday morning sex actually. Particularly after they’ve just woken up, when they were so relaxed from sleep that everything would be taken slowly and seem to last so much longer. Loki wonders if he hadn’t been in such a rush to clean himself up if they would have still partaken in their Sunday morning ritual. Given the look on James’ face at the moment, though, it seemed like it was going to be all business today.

“Why don’t you ever want to talk to me about what’s bothering you?” James asked, looking a little more than hurt. 

“Because I don’t want to talk about it at all,” he said. “Last night happened. It’s done. Now I just want to move on from it.”

“Just because it’s done doesn’t mean that you’ve moved on from it.”

“Please don’t use your VA shit on me right now,” Loki sighed. “I’m really not in the mood for it.”

“And I’m really not in the mood for you to shut me out like an asshole, again!”

That made Loki’s eyes widen in surprise. He and James had had their fights before, but he had never resorted to name-calling before.

“Yeah,” James said. “I can be mean too.” 

“If you’re just going to pick a fight, then you might as well go,” Loki said.

“I’m not trying to—” James cut himself off before his voice got too harsh, and ran his hand through his hair. He took a deep breath to calm himself down before he tried to speak again. “I’m not trying to start a fight, so please, stop twisting my words around.”

“I’m not doing that.”

“Yes you are, Loki, so please stop it, and just talk to me straight.”

“…Alright, I’ll talk straight. You’re really pissing me off with all of this nagging.”

“Ok… That’s a start. I’m sorry that I’m annoying you.”

“Stop being so fucking apologetic,” Loki groaned. 

“Well what do you want from me, then?”

“I want you to just drop this whole thing and leave me alone.”

“I can’t do that.”

“Yes you can. It’s very easy. Just stop talking and soon enough, everything will be fine. It will go back to the way it was before.”

“Has that ever worked for you before?” He asked. Loki didn’t have an answer for that. “Look, I know that you may not be in the mood for it right now, but I’m going to pass on some of that ‘VA shit.’ The biggest thing that Sam taught me—that I _learned_ —was that if you try to carry the weight of all of this shit around by yourself, eventually it’s going to crush you. And that’s a hard place to come back from… I don’t want it to happen to you.”

_It already has_ , Loki thought. _Many times before._

When Loki didn’t say anything, James got down on the floor in front of him, kneeling between Loki’s still spread legs. Loki saw the way he was looking at him and didn’t have the patience for it. As he looked away, James took his hand in his and rubbed his thumb gently over Loki’s skin in that way he always did whenever he held Loki’s hand. Like he was savoring the touch. 

“Loki,” he said. “Baby, please look at me.” Loki didn’t. James sighed deeply and bent his head down so that his forehead was resting on Loki’s hand.

“Please just let me in, baby,” he whispered. “Let me help you. Please don’t hide from me.”

A lump began to form in Loki’s throat and his still dry eyes started to sting again. He couldn’t tell if they were the oncoming of tears of anger or sadness, though. He tried to pull his hand back, but James held on to it tightly. 

Why couldn’t he just let him be? Why did he have to want to know every little thing, every little secret that Loki wanted to keep hidden? It was just like Thor… He wanted to talk things out as well, after Hela. When Loki had tried to shut himself out, Thor had forced him to open up and talk about what was killing him inside. He thought that he was trying to help, but all it had done was make Loki lose the one person in this world he thought he couldn’t live without. 

Talking did nothing to solve the problem. It only created more. It opened the floodgate to emotions too powerful to deal with and hurtful words that couldn’t be unsaid. It lead to screaming, breaking plates, scratched vocal chords, and broken hearts… James just couldn’t see that. He couldn’t understand. He couldn’t understand that—

“I can’t lose you too,” Loki said out loud. He hadn’t meant to, but the words just slipped out. As soon as they did, he squeezed his eyes shut and cursed his stupidity.

“What makes you think you’re going to lose me?”

Loki didn’t say anything. He kept his eyes shut and his head turned away from James. 

“Loki… what makes you think you’re going to lose me?”

“Please don’t do this right n—”

“You’re not going to lose me,” James cut him off. 

He got up from the floor and sat next to Loki on the couch. He pulled Loki close, so that the younger man was leaning against his chest, head tucked under his chin the way they always sat when they were cuddling on the couch. Loki let himself be moved into the position because this way, he couldn’t see James’ face…but also because he liked hearing the beating of his boyfriend’s heart beneath his ear. He liked the comfort of James’ arms around him, one hand rubbing up and down his side. Even in his most guarded times, whenever they were like this, Loki couldn’t help but feel safe. He loved the comfort and the closeness…The thing that only James could provide him.

For a long time they stayed in that position, neither of them saying a word. It was so quiet that Loki could hear the sounds of Mrs. Johansson’s television through the walls of the duplex. As James’ fingertips ran over his side, Loki felt himself relaxing deeper into the embrace. His stiff muscles began to ease and his chest didn’t feel as tight anymore. It was hard to be mad at James in moments like this. The moments where he would just hold him and make no demands. He wanted it to be like this all of the time. No questions, no prodding, no demands…Just these moments where he didn’t have to talk, didn’t have to think.

Loki thinks that he would die if he lost this too.

“…I… I saw someone. After work on Wednesday. Someone I knew,” Loki finally said.

James kept his fingers running over his skin and made a “hmm” noise. When he didn’t say anything else, Loki decided to continue. 

“It was someone that I haven’t seen since I left home. Someone that I thought I would never see again… It surprised me and… I obviously didn’t handle it well.”

“Was it… was it someone important?” James asked softly.

“Not to me,” Loki answered. “It was my ex’s best friend.”

“Your ex?” James leaned back a little so that he could look down at Loki. He tried to tilt Loki’s chin up, but Loki shook him off. “…Your ex-husband?”

Loki gave a tiny nod.

“He didn’t,” James stopped himself and tried to think of what to say. “He didn’t try to do anything to you, did he?”

“No,” Loki shook his head. “He just…tried to talk to me. I panicked.”

“What about him made you so shaken up?” James asked. “Were you—are you afraid of someone? Of your ex? Baby, did he try something?”

James voice was growing more panicked with each question, and Loki could hear the soldier part of him speaking. Honorable and protective of who he cared about.

“It wasn’t like that,” Loki said. “He never laid a hand on me… It just didn’t end well.”

“You’ve said that.”

“I meant it.” Loki closed his eyes again and took a deep breath. He didn’t want to do this. “Things happened that changed the way we felt about each other… Or at least the way I felt about him. I—I ended up saying a lot of hurtful things that I wished I could take back… I became so cruel. 

“When it was over, there was nothing left for me there. I couldn’t stand being in that place. I couldn’t take the judgment and his friends telling me what a bastard I was for breaking his heart… So I left and came here. Then I found you.”

James’ fingers gently squeezed Loki’s hip. 

“You make me forget who I was back then, and seeing him it just…it took me back there, to that place. I don’t want to be that person again, James…So I’m sorry if I come off like an asshole sometimes and shut you out, but there are things about me that I don’t want to remember. I just want to forget and I… I don’t want to become that person again and lose you too.”

“Loki, look at me,” James said gently.

Loki took his time, but eventually he forced himself to look up into his boyfriend’s eyes. James always had the most expressive eyes, he thought. His big, round blue eyes always carried such heavy emotion, and at the moment, they were radiating a mixture of sadness and affection. His chin was trembling, his lower lip just slightly tucked in. 

“Loki, I love you,” he said. “You never have to worry about losing me, because that won’t happen. The only way I’d ever leave is if you’d explicitly told me to. And even then, I think you’d still have some trouble getting me to go,” he laughed a little.

“You don’t have to be afraid of telling me anything, either. You can tell me whatever is bothering you—no matter how bad it is—and I will listen. You can scream at me, hit me, and call me whatever you want, but I’ll be there when you’re done to tell you that I love you and it’s alright…Just like I did last night.”

_That’s true_ , Loki thought. Even a beer bottle to the head and a crazy person punching at his chest hadn’t scared him off. 

“If there are things that you don’t want to tell me, then that’s fine. I’ll respect that. But please don’t hold yourself back just because you’re afraid that I’m going to leave—”

“I’m not afraid of that,” Loki interrupted. “I… I’m afraid that I’m going to hurt you… That’s what I do. I hurt people, and instead of facing it, I run away.”

“After having an arm blown off, I can assure you that can handle pain,” he laughed again. “So a mean word or two isn’t going to chase me away. And as for you running away, you don’t need to worry about that. I put a low-jack under your skin two weeks ago. The GPS is fully functional, so no matter what I can track you down.”

Loki couldn’t help but laugh at that and James’ sarcastic smirk.

“So no more fears about talking to me or losing me, ok? I’m not going anywhere.” James bent down so he could kiss Loki’s forehead. Loki smiled slightly and enjoyed the feel of his warm lips. 

“As for this guy… Have you seen him since Wednesday?”

Loki shook his head.

“Then it might have been a fluke,” he shrugged. “World is only so big… I get why it would freak you out, though, and it’s ok that you felt like that. It was a bad experience and it’s natural that something like that could trigger it again.”

“You’re doing that therapy shit again,” Loki mumbled.

“Hush, it fits the situation,” he said. “If you do see this guy again, though, don’t be scared. You have to forgive yourself for what happened before. It wasn’t your fault that things didn’t work out before and you’re not to blame, ok? You’re a good and amazing person…despite how scary your bitch-face is.”

Loki gave him a tiny laugh at that. Forgive himself? Easier said than done. How could he forgive himself for all that he’d done…for not saving her?

“It’s not just seeing him that had me freaked out,” he admitted. “I…I’m worried that he’ll tell someone back in our old town. I haven’t been there or spoken to anyone from there in over four years…I’m really not keen on the idea of anyone knowing where I am.”

“Someone like…your ex?” He asked in a suspicious tone.

“Maybe,” Loki admitted. “Him, or my parents. I haven’t spoken to them in a long time, since my father cut me out of his life… I left that town to get away from everyone, not just a failed marriage. I wanted to start over. I don’t want those things invading my life now. Not when… not when I’m happy with you.”

Though his eyes still held a hint of sadness, a smile broke out on James’ face that was so bright and so loving, that Loki couldn’t help the skip in his heartbeat. He couldn’t help but wonder why this man cared so much about him.

“I’m happy with you too, baby. Happier than I’ve been in a long time… So no matter what, I’m not going anywhere. I’m with you till the end of the line, Lokes.”

Till the end of the line. Whatever that may be. Whether it be moving on with his life, or the more likely version of it all ending in heartbreak when he finally realized that Loki couldn’t give every part of himself that he wanted, he knew that James had meant what he said. He was going to stay with Loki through all of the hurt, and possibly until it broke them both. It was the only way that Loki could see it ending, because that’s how it would always end with him…But in moments like this—moments where he was in James’ arms and the two of them shared a gentle kiss—it was easy to pretend that it could be like this forever. He could pretend that he could stay in this moment—where he didn’t have to think or talk or feel—with someone who loved him and who didn’t demand anything more. 

When they pulled back from their kiss, James opened his mouth, but quickly shut it again. He looked as if he were trying to think of something to say, so Loki asked, “What?”

“It’s just… Last night, when you were crying, you… You scared me, baby. I was really worried about you.”

“I’m sorry,” Loki said lowly.

“It’s ok, but… you kept saying that…You kept saying ‘she’s gone.’ Who were you talking about?”

Loki felt his heart still in his breast. He had forgotten about that. When his eyes widened just a fraction, James noticed immediately and looked regretful for having brought it up.

“Y—you said that you would respect if there were things I didn’t want to tell you…” Loki didn’t have to finish. James nodded in understanding and kissed him again.

“Ok.”

No more words were exchanged, and Loki was grateful again for the silence. He let himself fall back into the warmth of James’ arms and closed his eyes as he listened to the sound of his beating heart. As James’ fingers trailed up and down his side again, Loki tried to shut off his mind. If he didn’t talk, didn’t think, and didn’t have to feel, then he could stay in this moment of content with James forever. 

Nothing could hurt him in this moment. Nothing from his past would find him here… Not when he was happy with the man he loved.

***

The jogging trail was practically empty that morning, the sun just beginning to peak through the city skyline, as Thor began his second lap around the reservoir in Central Park. He liked this time of day. It gave him a chance to see the city in its quieter hours, without the distraction of all of the people rushing by in whatever hurry they seemed to be in. In the early hours of the morning, as he ran past the green grass and the still waters, Thor could almost pretend that he was back home, in his quiet little town and away from all of the stress in the world.

It was just as he got to the black fence near the edge of the water that Thor felt his phone going off in his pocket. He slowed down his running until he came to a full stop, his breath panting from the exertion of the run, and pulled his phone out. The screen showed a notification of a text message from his mother. He had to smile at that. She was the only other person he knew who would be up this early on a Saturday morning when the rest of the world was sleeping. She’d texted Thor every morning since he’d moved, telling him how much she loved and missed him. 

Today was no different. She said that she loved him, everyone at home missed him, and asked if he was doing well. She also asked to send a photo of the city. Like Thor, she had spent the majority of her life in their small town. Though Odin’s corporation was based in the city, he preferred to keep his family in their suburb, so that they could have a quieter life. His mother had always loved the idea of the city life, though. She’d talk of the glamorous life and the bright lights, and how she wished she could visit.

Smiling, Thor walked up toward the black fence, stepped up on the concrete ledge and angled his phone so that he could capture the image of the cityscape from across the waters. He typed out a message telling her that he loved and missed her, but that he was alright. Once he sent the message, though, he saw in his list that there was one unread message.

Curious, Thor thumbed through his messages until he saw the one he had missed. It was the one Fandral had sent him earlier that week. He had completely forgotten about it. Whatever it was, it probably wasn’t too important, and if it was it was too late to do anything about it now. Still, he felt bad and braced himself for whatever plans Fandral had made for their weekend. What he saw was not what he was expecting, though. 

From Fandral: _“You’re never going to guess who I just saw.”_

Thor considered erasing the message. Fandral had bragged to him that he had seen Woody Allen a couple of times since moving into the city, and he swore that he saw the back of Angelina Jolie’s head once at a party, so he was likely trying to brag about some celebrity sighting again…Still, Thor felt bad about leaving his friend hanging for four days. Letting his guilty conscience get the better of him, he began to type out a much delayed reply. 

_“Sorry. Who did you see?”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi there, welcome to the bottom. Sorry that I drag this all out so much. I have trouble shortening things out.
> 
> Anyway, thanks for reading, and I'll see you all at the next update ;)
> 
> Also, it is now my official head-cannon that Loki and Bucky's ship song for this fic is Starset's _My Demons_


	5. Chapter 5

It took a full week before things really began to calm down between Loki and James. Despite their heart-to-heart, the tension was still pretty thick between them. They didn’t bring up their argument again, and Loki tried his best to smile and pretend that everything was as it was before. Sometimes, however, he caught that worried look in James’ eyes when he thought Loki wouldn’t notice, and he knew that his boyfriend was still worried about him. He was just kind enough to back off when Loki needed him to. Sometimes Loki found that to be the most frustrating thing about the man, but he appreciated it all the same. 

During the week, though, Loki went to work, he came home, and the two of them would eat dinner and talk about their day. Work was still stressful for Loki, but he was beginning to feel better about walking to his car at night when he didn’t see sight of Fandral again. He was hoping that perhaps James was right, and that seeing the man had just been a one-time fluke, but Loki knew his luck was never that good. He could relax for now, but he still hadn’t let his guard down completely. 

When the next Saturday rolled around, James decided to take the initiative and take Loki out on a date in an attempt to get both of their spirits back up. He planned the day to begin with a trip to Loki’s favorite coffee shop where he would let the little glutton buy as many scones as he wanted. Next, depending on the weather, they would take a walk through Central Park, where he could finally, hopefully, talk Loki into getting on the carousel—he’d been trying that for years with no luck. Later in the day, he’d take Loki to the opening of one of Peggy’s cousin’s gallery in The Village. He wasn’t a big art person, but Loki had dragged him to enough museums to instill some kind of sense of culture on him, so he figured it could be fun. And if it wasn’t, then at least there would be alcohol. Lastly, he’d finish the night off by taking Loki—if all things went well—back to his apartment to finish the night off right. He was still stressed over their argument, and he knew that Loki was still feeling tense, so James felt that they both deserved a perfect day. And, damn it, he was determined to make it happen. 

Of course the perfect way to start the day was to observe their Saturday morning ritual.

James woke first when the rays of the morning sun began to shine through the blinds into his room. Loki was still sleeping soundly on his side next to him, so he had to roll himself over gently in order to get a look at the clock on the wall across the room. It was only a little after eight in the morning, Loki typically didn’t get up until about nine on Saturday mornings. He let out a tiny sigh and cursed his ability to rise with the sun. Rolling back onto his side, he leaned himself up on his elbow so that he could get a better look at the sleeping man next to him. 

Loki was laying on his side, curled up in the fetal position facing James. His hair was wild from sleep, sticking out in various positions and strands stuck to his cheek. He smiled and gently brushed away the strands so that he could get a better look at Loki’s face. It was easier said than done, though, as some of it was stuck from the dried saliva that had slipped past Loki’s open lips. He couldn’t help but laugh when Loki twitched and narrowed his eyes at whatever was interrupting his sleep. Within moments, another strand of drool was slipping from the corner of his lips and a soft snore escaped him. 

James thought he looked like an angel sleeping there. 

After weighing the options in his head, he decided to risk Loki’s wrath of being woken too early and leaned down to kiss his cheek. Loki’s skin twitched at the contact, but it didn’t wake him. James went for his exposed shoulder next, trailing the skin with light kisses. Loki began to stir when James’ hair tickled his collar bone. He kept his eyes closed, but he rolled over so that he was lying on his back. James grinned, because this meant that he had more places to touch. 

James took a moment to readjust himself so that he was leaning on his left arm and he could trail the fingertips of his right hand over Loki’s side. As he did so, he kissed a trail from Loki’s shoulder, over his collarbone, up the column of his throat, and along his jawline before he finally reached those sweet lips that he loved. He kissed him gently, enjoying the soft feel of Loki’s lips against his own, and enjoying it even more when Loki—still caught in the fog of sleep—slowly kissed back.

As he ran his fingers over Loki’s side, he began to pull the sheets down lower so that he could see his boyfriend’s torso. Smooth, pale skin, lithe and toned. The last part always confused him, because he’d never seen Loki exercise and he had seen the way the man could devour a plate of sesame chicken. He had no idea how he managed to have the body of a dancer, but he was certainly not going to complain. Not when he could run his fingers over the muscles of his abdomen upwards, until the pad of his thumb brushed over his nipple and watch as it began to pebble beneath his touch. 

James scooted closer to Loki until he pressed against the curve of Loki’s hips. He could feel himself beginning to grow hard, and no doubt Loki will be feeling it soon too. He dipped his head so that he could lightly take Loki’s earlobe between his teeth. His boyfriend moaned lightly, back arching up just a fraction. That had always been a fun little sweet spot for him, so of course James had to take advantage of it. And oh, how he loved hearing those tiny gasps escape from Loki’s lips as he teased his ear, panting against his skin while his fingers ran down from Loki’s nipple to the small patch of hair just at the waistline of his low sweatpants.

It didn’t take too long before Loki’s head turned and he found James’ lips with his own. They kissed lazily for a while, slowly and gently as James’ fingers dipped just below the waist of Loki’s sweatpants. The kisses grew more heated, though, when Loki’s hand came to rest on the back of James’ neck, fingers curling in his hair. James pushed his hips against Loki, letting him feel his growing excitement and Loki moaned into their kiss, his nails scratching lightly down from the back of James’ neck to his back. James hissed at the sting of Loki’s nails and showed how it was affecting him by giving a particularly hard thrust of his hips. 

Loki whimpered and kissed him deeper. A calloused hand slipped in the back of Loki’s sweatpants, caressing and grabbing at Loki’s bare ass so that he could squeeze, and knead, and pull Loki even closer to himself. James groaned when he felt his boyfriend’s hardening length brush over his own erection. He pulled back from their kiss so that he could watch Loki. His green eyes were finally open, dark and clouded over with growing lust. His lips were parted, panting shallowly as the flush on his cheeks grew. He looked so beautiful and James thrust his hips once, twice, three times until—

“Ah!” Loki’s head went back as he let out his little cry. 

It took all of the self-control he could muster not to roll Loki over and pin him down onto the mattress. James wanted—God he wanted so badly—to hold Loki down and fuck him until the younger man saw nothing but stars. He wanted to drive into that lithe body until they were both sweating and heaving for breath, until Loki was begging him to come. But he didn’t. He fought back the urge, because he knew that, like most things with Loki, it was better if it is done slowly. So he gently coaxed Loki to lay on his back instead. 

Loki did so without a word and, knowing what would be coming, he folded his arms behind his head and parted his legs. James had to smirk at the cockiness of the act as he got up on his knees between those legs. Loki gave James a smile that would have been haughty had it not still had that bit of sleepiness to it, and looked pointedly towards the growing tent in his sweatpants. Silently telling him to get on with it. James laughed and leaned forward so that he could give him a quick peck on the lips. One turned to two, turned to Loki raking his nails lightly up and down James’ sides and nibbling on his lower lip. James’ hissed and kissed his way down Loki’s body, worshiping and lavishing attention at every inch of skin that he could touch. Down his neck, over his chest, and towards his abdomen.

When he got to his stomach, just around his navel, though, Loki did as he always did. He tangled his fingers in James’ hair and gave a gentle push on his head, urging him to go lower…and past the off-colored marks on his flat stomach. 

Hooking his hand around the back of Loki’s waist, James began the process of pulling down Loki’s pants. His boyfriend graciously assisted by lifting his hips and kicking them off of his legs once they were low enough. James sat back on his knees, taking a moment to appreciate the sight before him. Loki laying back with his legs splayed open like an offering before him. Black hair fanned out around him like a dark halo. His cock engorged and red, with the tip beginning to leak little beads of precum. 

James bent forward to lick at the tip of Loki’s cock, lips wrapping around the head so that he could suckle. His hand stayed under Loki, kneading his ass as he swirled his tongue around Loki’s tip, hollowing his cheeks the lower he went. From above him, Loki was quickly dissolving into a mewling mess, gasping for air and letting James know full well that he was enjoying the experience. So James continued on, sucking Loki in a tantalizingly slow manner that had Loki groaning and bucking his hips, begging for more. Just as he liked him. He also enjoyed Loki’s pitiful whimper when he pulled back off of his cock.

Loki’s cock was an angry red color and glistening with his saliva as it stood erect, waiting for James to lavish more attention onto it. And he would, but he was always a multitasker, and Loki knew this by now. So when James began to get off of the bed so that he could pull his own pants off, Loki was already turning to dig into the drawer of the bedside table where they kept their supplies. James had his pants around his ankles when Loki tossed him the half-empty bottle of lube, followed by a condom. That still made James a little irritated. They had been in a monogamous relationship for two years and still got regular check-ups, but Loki insisted on always using a condom. It felt like a lack of trust, but he wasn’t going to push the issue and turn it into a big deal. 

He crawled back onto the bed and uncapped the lube. It was always a little awkward doing this one-handed, but it appeared that Loki was in a bit of a rush this morning. He sat himself up and squeezed the lube out onto James’ fingers himself, kissing him again before he laid back and raised his hips. 

James positioned himself closer between Loki’s legs, forcing his boyfriend to spread himself wider and he got a look at that sweet little hole. Grinning to himself, James used his thumb to circle around his entrance, slickening it with the lube and reveling in the twitch of Loki’s skin. Loki’s body was growing hot and he wanted so badly to be touched. When James’ thumb circled the rim again, he pushed his hips forward, hoping to have it breach him. James’ looked to Loki’s eyes and waited for his boyfriend to give him a nod before he complied and his finger was engulfed in that tight, warm heat.

Loki hissed and then bit his lip at the breach. It always stung a little at first, but the burn would eventually give way to the good feeling of being stretched and filled. James pushed his thumb in further, watching in awe as Loki pushed himself back against the digit. He knew how greedy his boyfriend was and he knew that one digit was nowhere near enough for him, but much like his Loki, James had times where he could be a little shit as well. So maybe, sometimes, he drew things out on purpose. It was all worth it just to hear Loki make those sounds of pleasure, though.

He pulled out his thumb and replaced it with two fingers, pushing them in and pulling them out in a long, drawn out manner that had Loki groaning the entire time. He could see the tip of Loki’s cock leaking as he plunged his fingers in and out, stretching Loki open. Let it never be said that he’s a cruel man. James readjusted himself so that he was lying on his stomach, this way he could take Loki in his mouth as he stretched him. Loki gasped and writhed under his ministrations, bucking his hips upwards into that hot mouth. When James curled his fingers inside of Loki he knew that he found the prostate when Loki practically screamed and bucked up so hard that he hit the back of James’ throat. He had to use his other arm to hold Loki’s hips down steady to keep him from choking him on his cock as he ruthlessly assaulted his prostate. 

Loki’s thighs were trembling on either side of his head, caught between trying to trap James where he was and spreading himself open even more. The part of him that was still trying to hold on to all coherent thought had him reach down to pull James’ hair back, so that he could look at his face and watch him take Loki fully in his mouth. James looked up and held Loki’s eyes as he hummed around his cock. Loki’s mouth was open, gasping for air and trying his best to speak, but every time he tried, James’ fingers would brush against that spot inside of him that had him seeing stars. As James ran his tongue down Loki’s shaft, he could feel the veins, feel how engorged Loki was becoming and knew that he was close to the edge. He wasn’t there just yet, though. All he was waiting for was…

“…J- James,” Loki managed to gasp out. “James…fuck… please.”

There it was. James pulled off and out of Loki, just so that he could practically pounce him. He laid his body out over Loki’s, chest to chest, letting his cock rub against Loki’s so he could feel just what Loki was doing to him, and kissed him deeply. Loki kissed back with fervor, body hot and beginning to sweat. James could feel his heart pounding, but he held off going straight for the fuck. He knew that if he did, they both wouldn’t last more than a minute. So he waited as long as he could, enjoying the deep kissing and touching, before he sat back, picked up the condom and ripped the wrapper open with his teeth.

As soon as he rolled it onto his cock, Loki’s hand was there, stroking him and covering his length with lube. James bit his lip hard, squeezing his eyes shut and groaning as those hands touched him. As he was lubing him, Loki kissed up James’ pectoral, to his throat where he bit down at the juncture of his neck in the place he knew drove James absolutely mad. James wrapped his right arm around Loki’s lower back to pull him closer while those teeth grazed his skin. Out of pure reflex, his left arm went out so that he could run his fingers through Loki’s hair…he stopped himself when he remembered, though.

He paused for a second, looking at his arm and the smooth, rounded part of his skin that ended at the elbow joint. It’s funny how after all of this time, he could still feel his hand there. He could still feel like he could do something as simple as stroke his boyfriend’s hair. It was always a harsh reminder, though, when he remembered that he couldn’t.

Loki felt it when his body went stiff. He pulled back and saw James looking at his arm with that familiar blank expression. This happened from time to time, and it would always make James feel self-conscious. So Loki gently took James’ arm and kissed it. When James looked from his arm to Loki, he smiled to him warmly, letting him know that it didn’t matter, that it was all ok. When Loki kissed the arm again, James smiled back. 

“Lie back,” he said softly.

Loki obeyed. He laid down on his back, assuming their preferred Saturday morning position by spreading one leg out, and letting James hook the other over his left arm. James took a moment to line himself up to Loki’s waiting entrance, pressing the head of his cock just at the rim. He looked to Loki first, and when Loki nodded, James took a breath and began to push in. Loki hissed again, and inch by inch, James became enveloped in that tight, wonderful heat, clenching around him. Again, the urge to just ram into Loki for all he was worth was creeping on him, but he had to fight it off. It wasn’t just about him. He wanted Loki to enjoy this as well, because, in all honesty, the most arousing thing to James was watching Loki lost in that haze of ecstasy. 

He took his time, waiting for Loki to be comfortable before he pulled out a fraction. Loki let out a delicious moan when he pushed back in. James let one out as well as he felt him clench around him. God, he always felt so good. He kept his thrusts short and shallow, just enough to drive Loki crazy, begging him for more. James bent down lower, bending Loki almost in half so that he could go deeper while at the same time capture his lips. Loki moaned and cried as he felt the tip of James’ cock brush against his prostate, and he wanted so badly to roll them over so that he could be on top and control the rhythm. If he did so, though, then he wouldn’t get what he loved so much about their current position. The sound of James slapping their skin together as he pulled in and out; the feel of their sweaty chests sticking together; the feel of his lips against his own; and the deep, emotional look James would give them as they held eye contact. It was all so…intense. More than anything that Loki had ever experienced. 

James could feel Loki’s erection poking at his lower abdomen. It was bouncing every time he thrust in, spreading his leaking fluid over his stomach. Loki’s head was going back, eyes squeezing shut and chest heaving each time he brushed over that spot inside of him. He knew Loki was close. He could feel his balls tightening and that coiling feeling in the pit of his stomach. He was going to come soon. He wanted to see Loki first, though. 

He reached between their bodies and took hold of Loki’s shaft, stroking him quickly as his thrusts became more and more erratic. Loki was panting and spewing profanities, pushing himself back on James’ cock while at the same time trying to buck up into his hand. James stroked him faster and began to pound deeper into that tight channel, so hard that the sound of their slapping skin soon overpowered their panting breaths.

“F-fuck!” Loki stuttered. “Coming.”

“Come on, baby,” James said. “Come.”

Loki nodded and gasped. James gritted his teeth when he felt Loki clench around him and within a second, his boyfriend’s back was arched, head thrown back as he let out a long, deep moan. His cock twitched and he came in James’ hand. And as he looked down on Loki, seeing him lost in his state of complete bliss, James took a moment to thank whoever was listening for sending him this man, this angel who loved him and could make him feel whole. 

With that thought on his mind, and that beautiful sight in his eyes, James came hard.

He didn’t pull out right away. Instead, he let himself collapse in a sweaty, sticky mess onto Loki as they both tried to catch their breath. Even though they were both flushed with heat, Loki didn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around his lover. One arm around his back, the other around his shoulders, hand in his hair, scratching his scalp. As they both took a moment to catch their breath, Loki allowed himself to just enjoy the state of bliss, the feeling of James still inside of him, his body over him and the intimacy of their closeness. After the couple of weeks that he’s had, he needed this more than he thought he did.

“Hmmm…Good morning,” James mumbled, snuggling against Loki’s chest and tucking his head underneath his chin.

“Good morning.” Loki kissed the top of his head. 

“Good way to wake up. Wouldn’t you agree?”

Loki smiled and was about to agree. Then he looked at the clock across the room and grumbled. “You couldn’t let me sleep a little while longer?”

James burst out laughing at that and lifted his head so that he could look at his boyfriend. “You’re an asshole.”

“You knew that coming into this relationship, dear,” Loki countered, brushing strands of James’ hair out of his face with his fingertips.

“And I don’t regret a second of it,” he said with a smile so bright and charming that it made a grin break out onto Loki’s face. 

“Good to know.”

“Love you, baby.” James kissed Loki’s chest and lay his head down again. 

“Love you too.”

“Hmmm…We should probably get dressed soon.”

“Oh? And why is that?”

“I’ve got a full day planned for us. One that actually requires us getting out of this bed at some point.”

“I don’t think I like this plan very much.”

“Spoil sport,” James pouted. “Come on, Lokes… If you play nice, there will be coffee, and sandwiches, and fancy art shit in it for you.”

“…You promise?”

“Cross my heart.” He traced an x over Loki’s heart.

“Ok,” Loki relented.

“Yay.”

Loki smiled and went back to stroking James’ hair. He knew they would have to get up soon, but he wanted to enjoy this moment just a little longer.

***

On the other side of the city, in his lonely room in the West Village, Thor was having a terrible morning. His alarm had gone off at six, the way it did every morning. By this time on Saturday mornings, he was typically up with the sun and already at least half-way in to his morning run. This morning, though, Thor remained in his bed, curled up on his side and looking out the window as sunlight began to illuminate the city. He stayed there, curled up and staring out blankly, through three of his alarms and as the sounds of the city began to grow louder. Odin would shake his head if he saw Thor still lazing about at this hour, and he truly did want to get up, but he just couldn’t force himself to do it. After the past week he’d had, he just didn’t have the energy left to move.

Loki was here. Loki was somewhere here in the city.

When Thor first received the information from Fandral, he got trapped in a state of shock. It took a total of three days before he could even begin to comprehend the message. His first thought was that perhaps Fandral had been mistaken. Surely it had to have been a mistake, because there was no possible way that his ex-husband would suddenly surface after seemingly disappearing off of the face of the earth, and certainly not in the place where Thor had finally decided to make a fresh start. Surely life wouldn’t be that cruel to him, would it?

Fandral had been adamant, though. Every time Thor came up with some reason why his friend could have been mistaken, he had shot it down. He told him how he called to the other man, called out his name, and how he ran when he saw him. Thor knew then that there was no way he was lying. After four years, someone had had an official Loki sighting.

After overcoming the initial shock, Thor had done his best to process everything like any seemingly rational person. He considered the possibility of meaningless coincidences, of the event being a one-time fluke that was unlikely to ever happen again. He thought about ignoring the incident altogether and forgetting that he’d ever heard anything about it. It wasn’t his problem anymore. Loki was gone out of his life and he was not Thor’s concern. Of course, rationality could only get him so far when the voice in the back of his mind kept whispering words such as fate and destiny. Try as he might to shut that voice up with reasoning and logic, the whispering persisted and intensified, leaving him so exhausted.

It wasn’t fair. Sure, Thor wasn’t exactly moving on completely with his life, he was man enough to admit that, but he felt that he was at least at a good place. He had enough of a distraction with his job, he was in a new city, and he had a chance to meet new people. He just had a chance here…Now it just felt like that chance was ripped away from him and he was right back where he was four years ago, watching the love of his life walk out the door without ever once looking back. 

As he lay there, memories played through his mind like the reel of a film. Images of sneaking out of the bed in the morning when he got up so as not to wake his sleeping partner; smiling through Loki’s cooking catastrophes because he tried so hard to get it right and he wanted nothing more than to make Thor happy; being bent over the table staring at his text books before feeling those arms wrap around his shoulders and a kiss on his cheek; their first Christmas morning together.

That one always stuck out in Thor’s mind as being one of the best Christmases of his life. It was just after they’d moved in together, after Loki had decided to give up Brown to be with him. The only thing they could afford was a one-bedroom hovel with a space-heater that was on the fritz. They didn’t have much money back then, so all they could afford for a tree was a sparse little thing that would make Charlie Brown’s look like the tree of Rockefeller center. Loki had decorated it in little lights of red, gold, silver and green, and they each had one present lying beneath it. They were freezing on Christmas Eve when the heater went out again, so they took all of the blankets they had, cuddled together on the couch, and watched every Christmas special they could find on Loki’s laptop. Even the terrible Star Wars one. 

They didn’t have a lot, but Thor remembers so clearly how happy he had been—how happy they had both been—to just be there together, holding each other. It was the happiest time of his life. 

Now, though, a memory that had once given him warmth left him feeling hollow. And that’s what Thor felt like now, just a tired, hollow shell…God, he was pathetic. 

The phone began to ring on the bedside table. Without even blinking, Thor reached out and grabbed it out of reflex. He didn’t look at the screen before he answered it.

“Hello.”

“Thor, my man!”

Thor closed his eyes and groaned silently. Fandral. Of course it had to be him. He’d been trying to get Thor on the phone all week since their little revelation. He’d been pointedly ignoring them, but obviously he could only run away from it for so long.

“What do you want, Fandral?”

“Geez, what crawled up your ass?”

“Nothing,” Thor sighed. “Sorry, just…bad morning.”

“Well get the hell over it. I’m taking you out tonight.”

“I’m not really in the mood.”

“Tough shit,” his friend scoffed. “You’ve been blowing me off for weeks. You owe me this one.”

“I’ll pass.”

“Come on,” Fandral said. “You’re in one of the busiest cities in the world and all you do is hole yourself up in your apartment and mope. It’s getting pretty sad, man.”

“…Thank you for reminding me, Fandral. I do so love our talks,” he said with a flat tone.

“I’m sorry, ok. Look, I need your help.”

“…With what?”

“I met this girl last week, Sharon. She’s gorgeous, man, like you wouldn’t believe.”

“I don’t see where I fit into this.”

“I’ve been trying to get into this girl’s pants since day one and she’s not given me any chance to put my foot in the door.”

“I’m still not seeing my connection in this.”

“I’m getting to it,” he groaned. “Ok, so she has this gallery opening tonight in The Village. Some fancy art shit, critics are supposed to be there and what-not. She’s agreed to let me come…but I’ve got to bring in as many people as I can with me.”

“Why?”

“Something about how larger crowds will make a better impression on critics and buyers. I don’t know, I wasn’t really paying too much attention.”

“A gallery opening?” Thor repeated. 

“Yeah, I know, it’s stupid, but I could really use your help.”

Thor didn’t think it was stupid at all. Although he was lumped into the meathead, jock category throughout his school career, Thor was actually an avid art-lover. It was one of the reasons he had agreed to head the NYC office for his father, so that he could be closer to the museums. The Symbolism movement was his personal favorite. When he wasn’t studying or on the pitcher’s mound, he often spent some of his free time losing himself in books on Edvard Munch, George Fredric Watts, or Gustav Klimt. A print of The Kiss still hung in his apartment. Of course, this wasn’t something that a self-proclaimed “bro” such as Fandral would understand. 

“What kind of work does she do?”

“Photography, I guess. I don’t know, probably something with an iPhone and Instagram. So, can I count on you to be my wing-man.”

Thor thought it over. While the thought of getting out and doing something was tempting, the thought of it alone just seemed exhausting. He would be forced to push everything to the back of his mind and put on his façade again. Pretend that everything is ok even when he feels so empty.

“Please,” Fandral sounded close to whining now. “I’ll even buy you drinks beforehand.”

“I don’t know,” Thor sighed. 

“Fine, I’ll make it dinner and even pay for your cab ride home. Just please do this for me!”

“…Fine,” Thor said, letting out a deep breath. “Fine, just text me the address.”

“Thank you so much, Thor!” Fandral said. “Seriously, when it happens with this girl, it will be because of you.”

“I’d rather not be responsible for that.”

“You know what I mean. Just, thank you. I’ll send you the address. Meet me at eight for dinner and we’ll go afterwards.”

“Fine.”

“And, Thor,” his friend added. “I know you well enough that I feel comfortable saying this. Get your ass out of bed, take a fucking shower, and move on, man. It’s been four years. I only told you about seeing him because I thought it was weird, but now I fucking regret it. You’re better than this, Thor. You’re better than some cold-hearted bitch who just walked out on you. So…just pull yourself together, man.”

The line went dead after that, and Thor was left still staring out his window. Pull himself together? Easier said than done. Fandral never had to worry about having his heart ripped out not once, but twice in his lifetime. He would never understand.

But Thor supposed he was right about needing a shower. When he touched his chin, he felt that his beard was getting a bit bushy as well. Wouldn’t hurt to have a shave either. So Thor gathered whatever energy was left in him to force himself up and out of bed. He didn’t even notice it when, out of reflex, his fingers touched the Cracker Jacks ring around his neck.

***

James snapped another picture just before Loki bit into his second tuna fish sandwich. As soon as he heard the click from the camera phone, Loki turned to his boyfriend and gave him a death-glare that should have had the man laying six feet under. James—as infuriating as he was—just laughed and took another picture.

“If you don’t stop that, I’m going to shove that thing in a place I know you won’t enjoy.”

“I can’t help it when you look so cute with all of that tuna around your mouth.”

“What!?”

Loki dropped the sandwich in his hand and instantly went to his mouth. There was, indeed, little chunks of his sandwich stuck to the corner of his lips, as well as a dab of mayonnaise.

“How long were you just going to let that stay there?”

“Until the pigeons came to pick it off.” James just managed to duck his head as Loki swiped at him. “Oh come on, it was cute.”

“How is looking like a slob considered cute?”

“It humanizes you,” James laughed. “You walk around all dignified all the time, clothes perfectly pressed and not a hair out of place. Makes you seem so…”

“Uptight?”

“Otherwordly,” James said. “Sort of like you’re unobtainable. But, when you’ve got bits of food all over your face, it reminds me that you’re human and that even you can slum with someone like me.”

“I’m not fucking Miss America,” Loki laughed. “And you need to stop talking bad about yourself. Of the two of us, I’m the one who lucked out.”

“Don’t I know it,” he grinned. 

James leaned in for a kiss and Loki leaned forward to meet him half-way. When James closed his eyes, though, Loki pushed him over and climbed over him to get to the phone he was still clutching in his hand. The two wrestled for a moment, knocking over their drinks and the picnic basket that James had prepared, making a mess of tuna fish and chips all over their blanket. After a struggle, James managed to get the upper hand, rolling Loki over so that he was pinning him down. He kept his bionic arm over Loki’s collarbone to hold him down and leaned down so that his face was level with Loki’s. With his other arm extended, James gave a wide, open mouth smile and took a selfie of himself and his boyfriend.

“I hate you!” Loki said, fighting off a laugh. 

“Hate me all you want, but this is so going to be my new profile picture.”

“I am going to murder you!”

“Promises, promises,” he dismissed. “If you don’t like that, then you’re really going to hate the video I posted of us on the carousel.”

Loki’s expression turned from shock to downright murderous in a matter of seconds. 

“You promised that was just for you,” he said through gritted teeth. 

“I lied,” he said cheekily. “You should see the comments that it’s gotten already. Peggy said you look so cute on the zebra.”

Loki raised his knee up at an angle so that he caught James in the gut. The older man grunted as Loki pushed him off and took the opportunity to snatch away the phone. Scrolling through the menu, he quickly found and deleted the unflattering photo of himself with food all over his mouth. James sighed in defeat on the ground beside him. 

“Must you take away my fun?”

“It’s what I do,” Loki replied. 

James didn’t say anything else. He just snorted and remained laying on the ground, eyes looking up to the cloudy sky overhead. As he did that, Loki took the time to look through the pictures that his boyfriend had taken of them that day. It was only mid-afternoon, but so far his boyfriend had taken fifteen new photos of the two of them. Some of them in the coffee shop, where Loki had gorged himself on three Danishes and more coffee than is probably healthy for any human being. Several were of Loki on the carousel in the park, his face slowly morphing from a pout to a genuine smile as the ride went on. He knew he was never going to live that one down. The last few were of their picnic, including the one James had just taken of himself pinning Loki down. Loki smirked and decided to leave it as it was. 

“Why are you taking so many pictures today?” He asked. Loki moved so that he could lay down next to James without mashing into the strewn tuna sandwiches. He laid his head on James’ shoulder and looked up into the sky with him.

“Because it’s a nice day?” He shrugged. “I don’t know.” 

Loki had to agree. All in all, it was turning out to be quite a lovely day, starting with a relaxing fuck and continuing on to an afternoon where Loki didn’t have to really think about anything. No stress from work, no thoughts of the past, and no expectations of anything to come. It was a beautiful, perfect day, where Loki could just be…Which made Loki wonder when the next shoe was going to drop. 

“What are you thinking, baby?” James asked, wrapping an arm loosely around Loki.

“Whether or not I left the stove on at my house,” he said. James laughed. 

“Well, since you’ve been gone for two days, if it was on, it’s either blown up or the gas has killed your neighbor by now.”

“Mrs. Johansson has lived long enough. I’m more worried about it blowing up and rendering me homeless.”

“Nonsense. I’m sure all of your friends would let you sleep on their couches.”

Even Loki had to laugh at that one. 

“Nah,” James went on. “Steve would probably let you sleep somewhere on our living room floor, provided that you did the dishes and cleaned up every once in a while.”

“Your generosity is overwhelming,” he said dryly. 

James squeezed him tighter. They fell into another comfortable silence and lay there staring up as the clouds rolled over the sky. There were more coming in than there were when they left James’ apartment that morning. They were starting to grey as well. It was going to rain soon.

“Do you ever think about the future?” James asked. 

Loki knew he should have expected a question like that. It came a bit sooner than usual, but he figured that the subject would come up eventually.

“Not really,” Loki answered. 

“Never?”

“No.”

He used to. Loki used to think a lot about his future. When he was five, he thought that someday he could become a wizard so that he could use magic and turn himself into a dragon. When he was ten, he thought that he would have written the next big fantasy series before he turned twenty. When he was fifteen, he thought that he would be taking over his family’s publishing company by the time he got out of college and would discover the next great novel. When he was twenty, he just thought that he would be happy with a family of his own. It seemed that whenever he planned on his future, nothing would turn out the way he pictured. So, he found that it was better to take his life one day at a time and deal with things as they came. 

“I never really used to either,” James admitted. “Used to think that I would have that whole James Dean thing going on.”

“Live fast, die young and leave a beautiful corpse?” Loki asked.

“Pretty much,” he shrugged. “That changed, though, after we met.”

“How so?”

“I don’t know… Sometimes, I think about us living together.” Loki tensed slightly and James responded by rubbing his arm. “I’m just saying that it’s something I’ve pictured. I also think about saving money so we can go on some trips someday; teaching more classes so that I can make enough to afford a down payment on a house in the burbs; or if we should do Christmas in the city or go see my grandparents in Iowa—”

“What the hell is there to do in Iowa?”

“Not a lot, so that settles that debacle,” he answered. “The point is, I never really thought about that kind of stuff—I never really cared about that kind of stuff—before I met you. You get me thinking about the future, Lokes.”

“…I-I don’t know what to say to that, James.”

“I’m not asking you to say anything, I’m just letting you know…But can I ask you one thing.”

Loki didn’t answer. All he could give was a tiny nod.

“I know you said you don’t think about the future, but if you did—Like, say you pictured life, say, five years from now, or even two years, do you at least still see us together?”

“Of course,” Loki said. His answer surprised even himself. He said it without hesitation, without even thinking about it. 

Loki didn’t think about the future anymore. He didn’t know what this day or the next had in store for him, and he didn’t have a long term plan for anything anymore. He didn’t picture himself moving into James’ apartment anytime soon, or saving up for them to buy a house with a white picket fence someday, or their future Christmas mornings. But the thought of not having James in his life at all seemed unbelievable. The man had already sworn that he would stay with Loki until the end of the line, and though Loki thought for sure that someday it would probably end, he didn’t actually visualize a day when James Barnes wouldn’t be in his life…It was the first time he admitted that to himself. It was a bit frightening.

When he nervously tilted his head up to look at his boyfriend, he saw a blinding smile lighting up James’ face. He looked so unbelievably pleased with Loki’s answer that he could burst with happiness at any moment. The smile was so infectious, Loki couldn’t help but return it. 

It was as James began to lean down for a kiss that Loki felt a drop of water hit his cheek. No sooner than he wiped it away did he feel another, then another, followed by another, until the sky seemed to open up and a downpour fell upon them. 

“Shit!” James exclaimed.

Within seconds, the two of them shot up and scrambled to grab their supplies. James grabbed the blanket while Loki shoved what he could back into their basket. A few things were left discarded, but he considered it good enough when James grabbed his elbow and started running. They heard the small screams of a few people who were also running for cover from the sudden downpour.

“Why didn’t you bring the umbrella?” Loki shouted at James as he tried to keep up with him.

“It was supposed to be a nice day!” He shouted back. 

“Fuck!” 

They were a good ten minute walk from the street and all around them, any potential shelter was quickly filling up with their fellow park-goers. They’d only been running for about a minute, but already both of their hair was completely drenched, and Loki could feel his jeans being soaked through. By the time they got out of this park, they were going to look like a couple of drowned rats. 

Even so, as they ran, drops of rain whipping at their skin, James’ mouth was open in a wide smile, looking as if he was having the time of his life. His hand was holding tightly to Loki’s, trying to keep him in his pace, while his bionic clutched their blanket to his chest. And Loki had to laugh. When James looked back at him, Loki pulled his hand free and took off in a sprint, shouting back to James that he could reach the car first. James’ quickly took up the challenge and the two began to race. 

Loki didn’t plan for the future anymore, because he knew that things would never go his way if he tried. He was determined to take things as they came along now, and do his best to handle each situation that arose. As he and his boyfriend ran through the rain like a couple of children, Loki knew in that moment that no matter what came along, as long as this wonderful man was in his life, it would never be boring.

***

The rain only seemed to pick up by the time Fandral came around to collect Thor, which was fine for him. It seemed to reflect his current mood anyway. Dark, cold, and dreary. It wasn’t as if he was trying to be a drag. He had honestly tried to take Fandral’s advice from the morning and pull himself together, but trying and doing were two different things. He just felt so hollow, as if he were just going through the motions.

Dinner with Fandral didn’t help to improve his mood either. His friend took him to a pub for cheap burgers and a few pints, and spent a majority of the time either looking at any pretty face walking by or attempting to get Thor to do the same. Just like in their old college days. For the first two years of college, Fandral used to drag Thor to every Greek party and kegger on campus, with the intent of getting him to sow his wild oats. Much like their time in school, though, Thor couldn’t find the energy to even look at another person when he only had one face on his mind. 

“If you’re going to cry into your beer, can you at least give me some warning first? I really don’t want to be around for that,” Fandral said. 

“Fuck you.”

“I’ll pass, thanks.”

Thor shot his friend a glare and took another sip of his pint. Fandral rolled his eyes, let out a heavy sigh and fell back in his chair. 

“We’ve got to get you laid.”

“No.”

“You need to, man. You haven’t been with anyone since Sif, and that was forever and a half ago.”

“Can we please not talk about this right now?” Thor groaned.

“Fine,” he sighed. “Ok…how’s work? Settling in there yet?”

“It’s not bad,” Thor shrugged. “Longer hours and a little less sleep. Some people are asses, and other think they can stick their noses up mine. Usual boss stuff.” Thor laughed a little when he thought of one person in particular.

“There is this one girl, an intern, who is under the impression that we’re best friends now.”

“How did that happen?”

“I walked her to her car one night, we chatted, and now she keeps popping around trying to chit-chat.”

“Is she cute?”

“She’s twenty.”

“That wasn’t the question.”

Thor rolled his eyes. “She is. She looks like one of those classic pin-up girls, but talks like a jaded forty year-old.”

“You should ask her out then,” Fandral said with a smile. 

“No,” he shook his head. “First of all, she’s my intern. Do you know how inappropriate that would be? Second, she’s twenty.”

“Coward,” Fandral scoffed. “Does she at least have any friends that won’t get you fired?”

“She keeps trying to get me to meet some friend of her’s, who is going for her Ph.D. She says she’s really great, but—Wait! How the hell did we get back to this topic?”

“It always comes back to this topic eventually,” Fandral shrugged. “That should tell you something.”

“It tells me that you don’t know how to take a hint,” he snapped back. “If we’re going to be talking about this shit, tell me about this girl you’re trying to see. Sharon?”

A wide grin spread across the lecher’s face at the mention of his potential conquest. 

“She’s really cute. Sort of like, the girl next door kind of face, but her body! God…”

Thor smiled along as Fandral went off into a rant about the girl he wanted to see. That should give Thor at least an hour of peace from his friend’s nagging. So Thor cleared his mind, remembered to nod when appropriate, and sipped his beer absently, just wanting to get through the night. Outside of the bar, the rain continued to pour down. 

_***_  
They arrived at the gallery opening an hour late. Loki had refused to go anywhere until they went back to James’ apartment to shower and change. As much as he wanted to go, he’d rather not go looking like a drowned rat. He never could quite pull of the wet look, not like James could. Loki almost hated how the man could be soaked to the bone from the rain and still somehow manage to look like a Dolche and Gabbana model. His thin shirt would stick to his skin, outlining his abdominal muscles perfectly. His hair would be slicked back and little droplets of water would be dripping from his skin, making Loki want to lick it off…Alright, they may have done more than just shower and change. 

Thankfully, though, they were both able to make themselves look presentable by the time they arrived at the gallery opening. Steve and Peggy were already there, walking hand in hand as they browsed through the various photographs lining the walls of the gallery. It took a few minutes of weaving through the crowd—there were more people there than Loki expected—for them to catch up with the couple. Steve smiled his bright, disarming smile when he saw them and Peggy greeted Loki with a warm hug. 

“So you two finally made it out of your room, I see,” Steve joked. 

“Well I try, but this one won’t let me get one leg in my pants before he pulls me back down,” James replied. He was then given a well-deserved whack on the head by his irate boyfriend.

“You two together, I swear,” Peggy said, shaking her head. 

“Oh hush, Yoko,” James said playfully, “Loki knows I’m just teasing.”

“Hmm,” Loki gave a tight smile. “You’re sleeping on the couch tonight.”

“In my own apartment? That’s cold.”

“So is my heart,” Loki said. 

He leaned in and gave James a peck on the cheek. Afterwards, he turned his attention back to Peggy. He thought that she looked rather lovely this evening. Her hair was perfectly curled, eyebrows dark and wonderfully shaped, and her full lips as red as the conservative, yet flattering dress she wore. Loki’s preference wasn’t really towards women, but he could appreciate their beauty, especially Peggy’s. She had the classic looks of a 1940s pin-up girl, the loyalty of a soldier, the mind of a scholar, and she could throw a punch better than anyone he knew. It wasn’t hard to see why everyone who met her fell in love with her. 

“Lovely to see you again, darling.”

“You as well, Loki,” she said. “You look rather nice this evening.”

“Well, I’m afraid that we all pale in comparison to you.” She smiled but rolled her eyes at him. “So where is this famous cousin of yours? I’m eager to hear her take on her work.”

He truly was. From what he could see of the photographs lining the walls, the girl was quite a talented photographer. Her works were black-and-white still shots of the same girl, each time wearing a different outfit or uniform, and speaking with a different person in each shot. The one closest to him was of the woman dressed in a pair of dirty scrubs, kneeling beside a patient’s bedside, holding an elderly woman’s hand as the older woman appeared to be speaking. The title read _Last Confessions: Espionage Series_. Loki liked it. The work reminded him of Cindy Sherman’s collection, and he was dying to know if she was inspired by her work. 

“Sharon is currently schmoozing a few critics over there.”

Peggy pointed towards the back of the gallery, where the young woman from the photo was standing, surrounded by four people with notepads and lanyards around their necks. She was looking from them to her photos and back, hands gesturing indicating that she was explaining her series. 

“Shame, I was wanting to ask her a few questions.”

“Perhaps I can help,” she suggested. “Sharon tells me everything about her work anyways.”

“That sounds lovely.” Loki put his arm out in a gentlemanly fashion and Peggy took it, leaning in in a friendly manner.

The two of them began to walk as Steve and James stared after them.

“Leaving me already, baby?” James called after him.

“Sorry, darling, but I’ve traded up,” he said with a grin over his shoulder. James blew a kiss at him and Loki returned it.

“Do you think those two will be alright?” He asked Peggy.

“Steve will be fine, but my guess is that he’ll soon start trying to explain every detail to Bucky—”

“—and he’ll start doing that thing where his eyes glaze over, but he’ll still somehow know to nod when necessary and—”

“—compare something to Mappelthorpe,” they said at the same time.

“Yes, well you know why that’s the only photographer he knows,” Peggy said knowingly.

“Who do you think bought him the book?” Loki said with an impish smirk.

***

Things were already well underway by the time Fandral and Thor walked through the gallery doors. The space was better than what Thor thought it would be; typical white-wall space that was clean and organized, but the hanging of the photographs kept the viewer moving around the space, telling the stories of the series. When Fandral said a gallery in the Village, Thor had assumed it to be an abandoned duplex that had been graffitied with random drawings everywhere, but this girl seemed very professional, her photos very compelling. And there were far more people here than Thor thought would be. He recognized a few from a few nights out with his friend, and more than a few seemed to recognize Fandral.

“Exactly how many people did you invite to this thing?”

“Let’s just say I owe a lot of favors in the coming weeks,” Fandral said as he scanned the room. 

“Uh-huh,” Thor nodded. “She must be pretty special then?”

“She is making me work hard for it,” he agreed. Finally his eyes settled on a spot in the room. “There she is.”

Thor looked over to where he was pointing and saw a woman speaking with a group of what looked to be important people. Art critics, if he had to guess. She was gesturing to the photos lining the wall with a look of seriousness. Fandral was right, she was cute. She looked young—perhaps early twenties—but dressed and carried herself with the confidence of a well experienced woman. Before Thor could really make a full assessment of her, Fandral was tugging him by the elbow towards her. He wanted to shake him off and tell the man to back off, because she appeared to be busy, but Fandral was already calling out to her as they walked. 

“Sharon!”

Thor groaned silently and resisted the urge to put his palm over his face when she looked over to the two of them. He saw her tense up at first, but quickly recovered with a forced smile on her face. His mortification only grew when Fandral pushed his way into the circle of critics so that he could greet her.

“Mr. Dash,” she said politely. “So good to see you again.”

“You as well. It is a wonderful turn-out you have here tonight.”

“Yes, thank you,” she said with another tense smile. She turned back to the critics who were looking at her expectantly. “If you’ll all excuse me one moment.”

She broke away from them and Fandral quickly followed after her. Feeling awkward Thor nodded to the people now staring at him and chased after his friend. To anyone just casually observing, they would probably just assume that the expression Sharon sported was one of casual disinterest. Thor, however, was rather skilled at reading blank expressions, and from what he could tell, Fandral had greatly exaggerated how much she wanted him here. This was going to be awkward.

“You look great tonight, sweetheart,” Fandral said. He went in for a kiss on the cheek, but Sharon backed up a fraction. 

“Thank you. Look, thanks for bringing in a lot of people, but now is really not a good time to talk—”

“Oh!” Fandral cut her off, obviously sensing the fact that he was about to be brushed off. “I want you to meet Thor. He’s my oldest friend and new in town.”

Thor forced himself to step forward when Fandral gestured to him. He was thankful that Sharon was gracious enough to be polite and extend a hand in greeting. 

“Your work is really great,” Thor said. Sharon gave another tense smile and nodded. “I really like how you incorporate yourself into each of the shots and how they each tell a different story. It reminds me of Cindy Sherman’s work.”

That got her interest. She looked at Thor with more than just a blank expression and even showed the hint of a genuine smile.

“Sherman has always been one of my biggest inspirations, especially her _Untitled Film Stills_.”

“I can see that impression,” Thor nodded. “So did you do as she did and cast yourself in these roles for the camera?”

“I actually went a little further,” she explained. “Instead of creating false stories or using backdrops, I actually did get positions at each of the places seen in the pictures. Every one you see is a real person I’m interacting with. It was a lot of fun and I got to know some wonderful people and learn their stories.”

“That’s amazing.”

“Thank you. A friend of mine actually documented the whole process, and we’ll be playing that with the rest of the series once the editing is finished.”

“You definitely have talent,” Thor said. “But if being a photographer doesn’t work out for you, at least you have a good fall-back career of being a spy.”

She actually laughed at that, which made Thor feel a little better. When he looked to Fandral, however, he saw that his friend’s eyes had narrowed a fraction. From behind them, a man holding a notepad called out to Sharon. She gestured back to them before returning her attention to Thor and Fandral.

“I have to go.”

“Duty calls,” Thor nodded. 

“Yes, but it was great meeting you. Look around and have some drinks. I’d love to talk with you again when I get done with the schmoozing.” She smiled again, but her face went back to professional. 

“Fandral,” she nodded to him. Then she was gone.

“The hell, man?”

“What?”

“I didn’t bring you here to hit on her.”

“I wasn’t hitting on her!” Thor said defensively. “I was having a conversation about her work without any expectations. Perhaps if you tried that, she might be more willing to talk to you.”

“Whatever,” he rolled his eyes. “Just go back to moping over your bitch ex.”

“…That was uncalled for.”

“Shit,” he muttered. “You’re right. Sorry. Look, I just really like her, so…”

“No one is challenging your little claim,” he said. 

“Good. Just, let me talk to her, and you go mingle.”

“With who? You’re the only person I know here.”

“I don’t know,” he said with a shrug. “How about that guy?”

Thor looked to where he was pointing and saw two men talking to each other near the back of the room. One was tall, blonde and dressed casually in a brown leather jacket and button-up shirt. A classically handsome, all-American boy, if Thor had to guess. The other was a little shorter, medium length brown hair and looked like a damn Gucci model. 

“Which one?” Thor asked. When he turned back, though, Fandral was gone. “Damn it.”

Thor stood there awkwardly for a few minutes, trying to think of what he should do. Things like this never used to be a big problem for him. He had the kind of personality that led him to making quick connections with people. It was a gift he had. Lately, though, he’d taken to being reclusive. He’d gotten good at being alone and shutting others out. But what did that get him now? Spending days moping around, thinking about the past and the way things should have gone… As much as he hated to admit it, this night out had so far been fun and a nice distraction. What was the harm in continuing it?

So Thor took a deep breath and began to step forward. As he walked over to the two men, he thought of things he could say to strike up a conversation and wondered if the two were an item or just friends. Subconsciously, he was hoping for the latter. While he had no intention of flirting or trying to pick anyone up that evening, he had to admit that the brunette was quite the looker. But then again, Thor had always had a thing for brunettes. This one had a nice smile and a nice laugh that Thor could hear even from where he stood. He heard the brunette say something about Mapplethorpe, so that gave Thor a little hope that he could strike up a conversation about photography. He could do this, he told himself. He could do this…

Unlike most men his age, Thor was always one to believe in destiny and fate. This belief had always shaped his life, leading him to the right place at the right time. Fate had decided that he would get a baseball glove instead of a football for his fifth birthday, which eventually led to his college scholarship. Fate had granted him his childhood friends, the Warriors Three and the Lady Sif. Fate granted him the love of his life. Now fate had led him here, to this gallery, on this night, at this very moment, when he heard a laugh that he hadn’t heard in almost five years, but one he could recognize anywhere. 

Thor was almost too scared to even turn his head. He was too afraid that his mind had finally snapped and he was beginning to hallucinate, but when he heard it again, he knew it had to be real. Thor didn’t even realize he was holding his breath until he turned and felt all of the air go out of his lungs, heart pounding in his chest. Because there he was…Loki.

It was his Loki.

His Loki was there, standing not thirty feet before him, talking to a woman in a red dress. His Loki was there, smiling a bright, beautiful smile that Thor hadn’t seen for years. He was just _there_ , as beautiful as he was the last moment he saw him; the day he signed the divorce papers.

Fate, the voice in his mind whispered. It had to be fate. Fate had brought him to this city, had given Fandral the opportunity to bring him here, so that he could see Loki again. Fate, in its occasional cruelty, had taken Loki and their love away once. Now it was trying to bring them back. It had to be. Why else would he be here.

Thor’s feet began to move before he even registers what he’s doing. He doesn’t even know what he’s doing anymore. All he can think about is just touching him, holding him again, just being _near_ him again. He thought about their promise to each other on the pitcher’s mound that night, in their own Cerin Amroth. He thought of the ring still hanging around his neck. And he smiled. He smiled so wide that it hurt, and tears were beginning to sting his eyes. It was Loki. _His_ Loki. 

His Loki was smiling, he was bright, and he was happy. Thor had wanted to see him happy again for so long.

He kept walking forwards, his fingers twitching with the anticipation of just touching Loki’s skin one more time. He was almost there. Almost right in front of him again. He wants to see Loki’s green eyes brighten upon seeing him again. He wants to see the smile that was only for him.

“Loki!”

Another voice called out to him, making Thor stop in place. He’d barely turned his head to look when he saw the blonde man and the brunette walk right by him and towards Loki and the woman. Loki looked back, his eyes going right over Thor and to the two men. His eyes lit up and smile grew even wider when the brunette man walked up to him and put his arm around his waist. He stood there in silent shock as Loki gave the man a gentle kiss. 

Thor was a man familiar with pain. When he was seven, he fell out of a tree and broke his arm. At sixteen he’d gotten his first concussion. At twenty-five, he suffered the greatest loss any person could ever experience, and the following year he’d had his heart broken into tiny fractals. None of that, however, could ever measure up to the pain he was feeling now, watching the love of his life look so happy with another person in his arms. Nothing had hurt so much as watching Loki’s eyes—filled with so much adoration—look right past him, as if he wasn’t even there.

Then it got worse.

***

Loki pulled back from their kiss and gave James a smile of content. He was having a good time at the gallery and getting the opportunity to introduce himself to different people trying to break through in the art community. James had been right. This whole day had done wonders to calm and distract him from all of his stress. James had done so much for him, he was always thinking about him. It really gave Loki a lot of things to consider.

“You look happy,” James said. “Having fun?”

“Yes, I am,” he nodded. “Thank you for bringing me out tonight.”

“I think we both needed a good night out.”

“True, but…I really did need this. So, thank you.”

“No problem, baby. You can show me your appreciation when we get back to my place later.” He gave Loki a little smirk and wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

“Oh, I intend to,” he said, his eyes raking James up and down.

“Steve,” James said over Loki’s shoulder. “Gonna have to go now, it’s been fun!”

He grabbed Loki’s wrist and motioned as if he were going to run, but Loki easily pulled out of the grasp.

“Nice try. We’re staying. Enjoy the art. Get some culture.”

“Don’t wanna,” James grumbled. “You’re lucky I love you.”

“Love you too, you baby.”

Loki put his hand in James’ and pulled his stubborn boyfriend along to follow after Peggy and Steve. A crash of thunder came from outside so loud that it shook the glass windows. James’ thumb rubbed soothingly over Loki’s skin. 

They were both oblivious to the sight of someone’s world shattering, not ten feet away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This turned out longer than I thought it would be. For anyone reading, though, I hope you enjoy :)


End file.
